



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 


















MACBETH 


WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, 
AND QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 


Adapted from the Stanley Wood 
“Oxford and Cambridge Edition ” 


BY 

F. A. PURCELL, D.D. 

RECTOR, CATHEDRAL COLLEGE, CHICAGO 
AND 

L. M. SOMERS, M.A. 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH, CATHEDRAL COLLEGE 



SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY 
CHICAGO NEW YORK 



Copyright 1916 

By F. A. Purcell and L. M. Somers 


JUL 11 1916 


©CI.A431832 

^ O, 2^ 


PREFACE 


This series of Shakespeare’s plays, which includes The 
Me >,ant of Venice, Julius C cesar, Macbeth, and Hamlet, is 
■ mainly on the Oxford and Cambridge editions of Spils- 
bi and Marshall and Wood. The present Editors have found 
edient to eliminate certain passages in the text, as well as 
to r ke some changes of matter and form in the editorial work, 
ut > d necessary for American schools. The Introduction con- 
1 a Biographical Sketch of Shakespeare, a short account of 
> * istory of the Drama, brief references to the Sources of the 
Piay, to the Characters, to Versification, to the Grammar of 
Shakespeare, etc. The annotated words are printed in italic 
type and the notes and word equivalents are given in the margin 
in juxtaposition with the text for the convenience of the student. 
The Glossary and many of the Notes have been rewritten, con¬ 
densed, or amplified, as the case required, and the Classical and 
Biblical Allusions have been included in the Notes and Glossary. 
An abstract of the play has been supplied in Hamlet and in The 
Merchant of Venice. Some unimportant and apocryphal matter 
has been omitted. The section on Shakespearean Grammar will 
be found convenient for those who may have difficulty in classi¬ 
fying many Shakespearean expressions, and the Questions for 
Review will be of advantage to both teacher and pupil, by saving 
time for the one, and by assigning specific work to the other. 










































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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Preface . 5 

Introduction 

I. Narrative of Shakespeare’s Life. 7 

II. Shakespeare’s Religion. 10 

III. Shakespeare’s Learning. 14 

IV. The Drama. 17 

V. Representation of the Drama in Shakespeare’s Time. 19 

VI. The Construction of the Drama. 21 

VII. Date of Composition of Macbeth . 21 

VIII. Distinctive Features of the Play. 25 

IX. Macbeth and Hamlet —A Contrast. 26 

X. Sources of the Play. 28 

XI. On Witches and Witchcraft. 31 

XII. What Is Tragedy?. 36 

XIII. The Characters of the Play. 37 

XIV. The True Account of the Macbeth Period of Scottish 

History. 54 

XV. Abstract of the Play. 55 

XVI. Time of Action of the Play. . 64 

Text . 67 

Notes . 151 

Grammatical Notes. 162 

Versification . 169 

Variants and Proposed Emendations. 174 

Cautions and Hints for Paraphrasing. 176 

Questions for Review. 179 

Glossary . 193 




























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INTRODUCTION 

I. NARRATIVE OF SHAKESPEARE *S LIFE 

William Shakespeare, the greatest of English dramatic poets, 
was born at Stratford-on-Avon, Warwickshire, England, on 
April 23, 1564. His father, John Shakespeare, was of the yeoman 
class. He had been a successful Warwickshire farmer, but he 
adopted the trade of glover on his removal to Stratford in 1553. 
There he soon became an important factor in municipal affairs, 
and by ability and industry he rapidly rose from one position 
of trust to another, until finally, in 1568, he became high 
bailiff or mayor of the town. Shakespeare’s mother, Mary Arden, 
was of an old Warwickshire family, and though she inherited 
“lands and houses” she had no education. 

John and Mary Shakespeare had eight children—four sons 
and four daughters. William, the third child, was the eldest 
son. Of his infancy and boyhood we know practically nothing. 
It is probable, however, that at the age of seven he entered the 
grammar school of Stratford, where he learned the rudiments 
of Latin, English grammar, writing, arithmetic, and probably a 
little Greek. His years at school were not many, for the 
declining fortunes of his father compelled the boy to seek 
employment when he was but thirteen years of age. After this 
we hear little or nothing about him until the time of his marriage, 
which probably took place in December, 1582. His wife, Ann 
Hathaway, of whom the boy-poet admiringly wrote 

Ann Hathaway, she hath a way 
To charm all hearts, Ann Hathaway, 

does not seem to have long exerted that charm over her young 
husband. At the time of their union he was little more than 

7 


8 


MACBETH 


eighteen, while she had attained the more mature age of twenty- 
six. This marriage, like most marriages of its kind, did not 
prove a happy one. 

If a small amount of reliable tradition can be winnowed from 
the chaff of fiction with which the memory of Shakespeare’s 
boyhood days at Stratford is surrounded, we may give credence 
to the tales regarding his youthful follies and escapades. Of the 
latter but one may be mentioned as having a direct bearing 
upon his whole career. We are told that he took part in poach¬ 
ing expeditions—a prohibited practice of the time—during one 
of which he was caught stealing deer from the estate of the 
eccentric Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote. The punishment for 
this offense in those days was a fine and imprisonment. Sir 
Thomas, being Justice of the Peace for that district, acted as 
“judge, jury, and executioner” in the case of the young 
Shakespeare, who bitterly resented the punishment meted out 
to him. In revenge, it is said, he wrote the scurrilous lampoon 
beginning 

A parliament member, a justice of peace, 

At home a poor scarecrow, etc. 

and posted it on the gate to Charlecote Manor. 

This naturally aroused Sir Thomas to further reprisals, and 
Shakespeare, to escape his vengeance, fled to London in 1585. 
Verification of the poaching tradition may be found in 2 Henry 
IV and in The Merry Wives of Windsor , where Lucy is carica¬ 
tured as “Justice Shallow.” The three luces or pikes, in the 
Lucy coat-of-arms, apparently suggested the “dozen white luces” 
in The Merry Wives of Windsor , and the many allusions to 
poaching found in the context are none the less significant. 

Before the poet’s departure for London, three children were 
born to him—Susanna, the eldest, in May, 1583, and Hamnet and 
Judith, twins, in February, 1585. On his flight, the immediate 
support of these children is supposed to have devolved upon his 



INTRODUCTION 


9 


mother-in-law, Mrs. Hathaway, of Shottery, then a widow in 
affluent circumstances. 

Tradition says that Shakespeare’s first employment in Lon¬ 
don was holding horses at theater doors, and doing odd jobs 
for theater-goers. Be this as it may, we soon find him employed 
as prompter’s attendant, whose duty it was to notify the actors 
when it was their turn to appear upon the stage, etc., and 
later we find him filling minor parts in the plays. Gradually 
he worked his way into more important positions. During 
these first few years, he must have devoted considerable time 
to reading, as a preparation for the wonderful works he was 
afterwards to produce. He recast and revised many old plays, 
began the production of original dramas, and acted some of 
the leading roles in his own plays. In company with William 
Kempe and Richard Burbage he made a successful appearance 
before Queen Elizabeth at Greenwich Palace in 1594. He acted 
before her again at Whitehall in 1596, at Richmond and White¬ 
hall in 1600, four times at Whitehall in 1601-02, and at Rich¬ 
mond Palace in 1603, a month before her death. In 1603 he 
fell under the favorable notice of King James I., who granted 
him and his company a license to play in London and the sur¬ 
rounding provinces. Later he appeared at court on several occa¬ 
sions, and in 1604 he marched in the royal train when James 
made his formal passage from the tower to Westminster. On 
this occasion he and each of his companions received four and 
one-half yards of scarlet silk, the usual dress allowance of court 
actors in those days. It is quite evident that as an actor Shake¬ 
speare was much more successful, financially, than as a play¬ 
wright. 

Whatever may have been Shakespeare’s youthful follies and 
extravagances, in later life he became not only a great poet, but 
he also developed the instincts of a shrewd business man. 
Through his acting and the sale of his plays he accumulated a 
respectable fortune, with part of which he purchased some 



10 


MACBETH 


valuable property in London and elsewhere. After an absence 
of eleven years he returned to Stratford in 1596, to bury his 
only son, Hamnet.* 

At Stratford Shakespeare invested considerable money in 
houses and lands, and obtained from the government the dis¬ 
tinction of a coat-of-arms, but he did not take up his residence 
there until 1616. In this year he abandoned dramatic composi¬ 
tion and began to enjoy, in his beautiful home at Stratford, 
a well deserved and much needed rest. At the beginning of 
this year, however, his health began to fail rapidly, and by 
April his end was near. The actual cause of his death is 
unknown, but it is generally admitted that overwork, and a not 
too submissive obedience to the laws of health, hastened an 
all too early dissolution. He died on the fifty-second anniver¬ 
sary of his birth, April 23, 1616, and w r as buried inside the 
chancel of Stratford church. On his tomb was inscribed the 
following epitaph: 

Good trend for Jesus’ sake forbeare 
To digg the dust encloased heare, 

Blese be ye man yt spares thes stones, 

And curst be he yt moves my bones. 

ii. Shakespeare’s religion 

The question of Shakespeare’s religion has been long, and 
sometimes furiously, debated. Many eminent writers incline to 
the belief that he was a Roman Catholic, while many others, 
equally eminent, maintain that he was a Protestant. At the risk 
of being considered partisan the editors have decided to insert 
the following rather lengthy extract from the pen of the dis¬ 
tinguished litterateur and scientist, James J. Walsh, M.D., L.H.D. 

* The direct line of Shakespeare’s family became extinct a little over fifty years 
after the poet’s death. Judith married Thomas Quiney, of Stratford. The off¬ 
spring of this marriage—three boys—died before reaching the age of manhood. 
Susanna married Dr. Hall, and of their union was born Elizabeth, the only 
granddaughter of the poet. Elizabeth married Thomas Nash, who died leaving no 
children. She then married John Barnard, who was afterwards knighted by 
Charles II. Lady Barnard died childless in 1669, and thus the immediate family 
of Shakespeare became extinct 





INTRODUCTION 


11 


This extract they hope will be instructive to many Catholics, 
and interesting, at least, to some who are not Catholics: 

There is no doubt that Shakespeare’s mother lived and died a 
Catholic. Her name was Mary Arden, and many of the Ardens 
continued to be staunch Catholics even during the dangers of 
Elizabeth’s reign. Indeed, one of the prominent members of 
the family suffered death for the faith. Shakespeare’s mother, 
moreover, made a will in which there is a mention of the Blessed 
Virgin, a custom that had gone out of vogue in England at this 
time except among Catholics. Shakespeare’s father, too, is on 
the list of Stratford recusants who were summoned by the court 
for not attending the Anglican service on Sundays. Shake¬ 
speare’s immediate surroundings, likewise, were distinctly 
Catholic, for the spirit of the old religion had not died as yet in 
England. Indeed, it was very much alive in the central portion 
of the country. 

It is sometimes said, however, that there can be no question of 
Shakespeare’s being a Catholic, for he was married, baptized, and 
buried in the Anglican Church. But these facts, it must be 
remembered, have in themselves no such significance as they 
would possess at the present time. There was no way of having 
the birth of a child properly registered then in England except 
by having it baptized in the church by law established. Obse¬ 
quies also had to be observed according to the Anglican rite, 
for the only cemetery was close to the parish church. As for 
Shakespeare’s marriage, in recent years the interesting sugges¬ 
tion has been made that the real reason for the circumstances 
attending the ceremony, which are supposed to carry a hint of 
scandal with them, is because he was originally married by a 
Catholic priest. As it was then very perilous for a priest to 
show himself in public or to perform any official church service, 
the marriage was, of course, performed secretly. Anne Hath¬ 
away’s family, moreover, was Catholic by tradition, and about 
the time of the marriage it is known that a priest, not entirely 
without the knowledge of the local authorities, used to say Mass 
privately, in the loft of one of the houses at Shottery. 

But if Shakespeare was a Catholic should not his plays show 
it? Unquestionably. And I maintain they do. Commentators 
have pointed out, for instance, that Shakespeare in Romeo and 
Juliet follows Arthur Brooke’s Tragical History of Romeo and 




12 


MACBETH 


Juliet very closely. He has, however, changed the whole of the 
play’s attitude toward the Catholic Church. Confession instead 
of being a source of sin actually protects the young people from 
their own passion in the most difficult circumstances, and almost 
succeeds in rescuing them from an unfortunate complication. 
Instead of being “superstitious,” Friar Lawrence is pictured 
as a dear old man interested in his plants and what they can 
do for mankind, but interested still more in human souls, trying 
to care for them and quite willing to do everything that he can, 
even risking the displeasure of two noble houses rather than 
have the young people commit sin. Friar Lawrence is repre¬ 
sented in general as one to whom Romeo and Juliet would nat¬ 
urally turn in their difficulty. 

But King John, it is maintained, represents an altogether 
different attitude toward the Church. In that play they assert 
there are passages which make it very clear that Shakespeare 
shares the general feeling of the men of England in his time. 
King John protests, for example: 

That no Italian priest 
Shall tithe or toll in our dominions. 

But as we, under heaven, are supreme head, 

So under Him that great supremacy, 

Where we do reign, we will alone uphold, 

Without the assistance of a mortal hand: 

So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart 
To him and his usurp’d authority. 

In this play, too, there are some bitter comments on monks 
which would seem to prove that Shakespeare shared the opinions 
of many of his contemporaries regarding monasticism. But let 
us see: The Troublesome Reign of King John, from which 
Shakespeare made his play, was probably written in the year of 
the Spanish Armada when English national feeling ran very 
high and there was bitter antagonism against Catholicism as the 
religion of England’s greatest enemies. The dramatist—we are 
not quite sure who it was—shrewdly took advantage of this 
political situation in order to gain favor for his play. He tickled 
the ears of the groundlings and attracted popular attention by 
stimulating the prejudice of his audience. Shakespeare modified 
all this to a very marked extent when he rewrote the play seven 
years later, though it can be seen that he used many of the words 
of the original version and was evidently following it very 




INTRODUCTION 


13 


closely. But for some good reason he was manifestly minimizing 
all the anti-Catholic bias in it though letting stand whatever 
sentiments were suitable for such characters as King John and 
his entourage. In the matter of monks and nuns and their treat¬ 
ment in the original version of King John, Shakespeare has been 
even more drastic in the changes that he made. 

But the best evidence of Shakespeare’s attitude toward the 
Anglican Church is to be found in King Henry VIII., one of the 
poet’s greatest plays and the last he wrote. Some of the Wolsey 
speeches in it are the finest examples of English that were ever 
penned. It is conceded by all the critics to be the ripest fruit of 
his mature years. Therefore, if a play can be considered the 
expression of Shakespeare’s settled opinion, that play is Henry 
VIII. Now it so happens that the subject of Henry VIII. is 
exactly the story of how the change of religion came about in 
England. But it is sometimes urged that the fifth act, with its 
culmination in the birth of Elizabeth, and the high prospects 
for England and the rejoicings which this occasions, indicates 
that the writer considered that the marriage of King Henry to 
Anne Boleyn and the birth of a daughter by that union marked 
a great epoch in English history and, above all, that the steps 
that led to this happy termination, though dramatically blame¬ 
worthy, must be condoned owing to their happy consequences. 
It is well known, however, that the fifth act by every test known 
to Shakespearean commentators was not written by Shakespeare 
at all, but by Fletcher. 

Our knowledge of Shakespeare’s relations with people in 
London would indicate that a great many of his friends and 
intimates were Catholics. It is possible that the Burbages, the 
actors with whom he was so closely joined during most of his 
dramatic career, belonged to the Warwickshire Catholic family 
of that name. One of Shakespeare’s dearest friends, the Earl of 
Southampton, who was his patron in early years, and his sup¬ 
porter when he bought the Blackfriars theater, was closely allied 
to a Catholic family and, as Simpson has pointed out, was 
cradled in Catholic surroundings. 

The conversion of Ben Jonson about the middle of the last 
decade of the sixteenth century showed how easily men might 
be Catholics in London at this time. Ben Jonson was in the 
Marshalsea prison on a charge of murder in 1594 and found 



14 


MACBETH 


himself surrounded by priests who were charged with treason 
because of their refusal to take the oath of supremacy. By asso¬ 
ciating with them Jonson became a Catholic and when released 
from prison married a Catholic wife. His child was baptized 
Mary, and Shakespeare was chosen as her sponsor. This choice 
of a godfather seems to indicate that Shakespeare was a Catholic 
at this time for, in his ardor as a new convert, Ben Jonson would 
scarcely have selected an Anglican for that office. 

One more proof of Shakespeare 7 s Catholicism in conclusion: 
About the close of the seventeenth century Archdeacon Davies, 
who was a local historian and antiquarian in the neighboring 
county of Staffordshire, but who was well acquainted with Strat¬ 
ford and its history, and who could easily have had very definite 
sources of information denied to us, declared that Shakespeare 
‘ ‘ dyed a papist. 7 7 It would have been perfectly possible, it must 
be remembered, for Archdeacon Davies to have spoken with 
people who knew Shakespeare during the years that the poet 
spent in Stratford at the end of his life. After this review of 
the evidence I can not but conclude that Shakespeare not only 
“dyed a papist,’ 7 but also lived as one. 

Leaving those, to whom these lines may be of interest, to 
make their own deductions, the editors accept the conclusions of 
the distinguished Jesuit, Herbert Thurston, who, in discussing 
this point in the Catholic Encyclopedia , maintains that there 
is no real ground for the belief that Shakespeare either lived 
or died a Catholic. Thurston concludes his able study of this 
question by stating, “The point must remain forever uncertain. 77 

in. Shakespeare’s learning 

Of Shakespeare 7 s learning it may be said that though classical 
quotations and allusions are numerous throughout his works, 
Ben Jonson credits him with “small Latin and less Greek. 77 
“His quotations from Latin literature are such as a schoolboy 
might make from Virgil, Ovid, and the other authors he had 
studied; and his allusions to classical history and mythology 
are mostly from the same sources, or from the familiar stock in 
English books of the period.” (Rolfe.) In comparing Shake- 




INTRODUCTION 


15 


speare with the dramatists of his time, Jasper Mayne, writing in 
1637, mentions him as one of those who did his work “ without 
Latin helps”; and Mayne’s contemporary, Ramsey, in compli¬ 
menting Ben Jonson on his knowledge of the classical languages, 
says that he (Jonson) 

could command 

That which your Shakespeare could scarce understand. 

Yet we are told that Shakespeare’s work is “Art without art, 
unparalleled as yet,” and though he borrowed nothing from 
Latin or Greek, his Julius Caesar ravished the audience, 

When some new day they would not brook a line 
Of tedious (though well labour’d) Catiline, 

and Jonson’s “Sejanus too was irksome.” In Fuller’s Worthies 
we find the following reference to Shakespeare: “He was an 
eminent instance of the truth of that rule, Poeta non fit, sed 
nascitur—one is not made hut horn a poet. Indeed his learning 
was very little . . . nature itself was all the art which was 
used on him.” And he speaks of the wit combats between him 
and Ben Johnson, “which two I behold like a Spanish great gal¬ 
leon and an English man-of-war. Master Jonson (like the 
former) was built far higher Jn learning; solid but slow in his 
performances: Shakespeare, like the English man-of-war, lesser 
in bulk and lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack 
about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his 
wit and invention.” Dryden in his Essay on Dramatic Poesy 
(1668), says: “Those who accuse him to have wanted learning, 
give him the greater commendation; he needed not the spectacles 
of books to read nature; he looked inwards and found her there: ’ ’ 
and in the same author’s prologue to Julius Ccesar we find, 

So in this Caesar which today we see, 

Tully ne’er spoke as he makes Antony. 

Those then that tax his learning are to blame; 

He knew the thing, but did not know the name. 

Great Jonson did that ignorance adore, 

And tho’ he envied much, admired him more. 




16 


MACBETH 


The material for his historical plays he obtained from 
Holinshed and Plutarch, and in the use of these rather unre¬ 
liable authorities he makes many unscholarly mistakes. 

During his mature years and in the time of his prosperity, 
he brought out his best works. Some writers credit him with the 
authorship of forty-three plays of a dramatic character. Seven 
of these are considered spurious. Thirty-three known to be his 
are divided as follows: 


The Taming of the Shrew 
The Merchant of Venice 
All's Well that Ends Well 
Much Ado About Nothing 
Measure for Measure 
The Comedy of Errors 
Twelfth Night 

Midsummer-Night's Dream 
As You Like It 
Cymbeline 

Two Gentlemen of Verona 
The Merry Wives of Windsor 
Love's Labor's Lost 

The Winter's Tale 
The Tempest 


.Italian Origin 


^Classical (from Plautus) 

^Mediaeval Sources 

Legendary 
Spanish Origin 
English Origin 
French Origin 

j* Origin Unknown 


►Comedies 


Timon of Athens 

Pericles 

Julius Caesar 

Antony and Cleopatra 

Coriolanus 

Hamlet 

Troilus and Cressida 

Romeo and Juliet 
Othello 

King Lear 
Macbeth 

King John 

King Richard the Second 
1 and 2 King Henry the Fourth 
King Henry the Fifth 
I, 2, 3 King Henry the Sixth 
Richard the Third 
Henry the Eighth 


Classical Origin 
.(Plutarch's Lives, by 
North) 


j-Mediasval Origin 

^Italian Origin 

"(Origin—Legendary 
J History of Britain^ 


’“Tragedies 


►Origin—Holinshed & Hall 


^Chronicle 

Plays 









INTRODUCTION 


Besides these he wrote one hundred and fifty-four Sonnets 
and some Narrative Poems. 


IV. THE DRAMA 

A lengthy discussion of the drama cannot be conveniently 
introduced into a text of this kind; therefore, the chief heads only 
will be touched upon. Drama is a Greek term signifying action, 
and in its application it comprehends all forms of literature 
proper for presentation on the stage. In the drama, actors 
usually tell a story by means of word and action. This story 
may be tragic or comic;—tragic when the serious phases of life 
are discussed, comic when life’s follies and foibles are depicted. 
Other phases of the drama which do not, strictly speaking, come 
under the heading tragedy or comedy, are the Greek Satyrs, the 
Morality Plays of the Middle Ages, the Pastoral Plays of the 
Renaissance, and the Melodramas still in vogue. 

Although the drama was well established in the remote ages 
in India and China, the earliest examples of pure dramatic art 
are to be found in Greece. From the sacred songs and choruses 
in honor of the god Dionysus, the Greeks in time evolved a form 
of drama, the chief features of which, even in its highest stages 
of development, were lyric or choral. To Aeschylus, Sophocles, 
Euripides, and Aristophanes, in the fifth century, and to 
Menander at a later period, the Greek drama owes its greatness 
and its influence in ancient and in modern dramatic literature. 

The Roman drama, as it has come down to us in the works 
of Terence, Plautus, and Seneca, is but a slightly modified form 
of Menander, and shows some traces of the influence of Aeschylus 
and other dramatists of his time. This modification, in the 
comedies of Plautus at least, was not for the betterment of the 
drama; on the contrary, it was a concession to the depraved 
taste of his Roman audience. Unfortunately, Plautus’ travesties 
of the old Greek masters later served as models for the dramatic 
writers of the Renaissance, and his influence is felt even to the 





18 


MACBETH 


present day. Modern tragedy, generally speaking, is a direct 
offspring of the works of Seneca. Toward the close of the Roman 
Empire, the theaters became the scenes of the most degraded 
exhibitions of indecency and debauchery. Christianity attacked 
these indecencies and drove the mimes from their haunts of 
infamy into the streets and byways of Rome and its environs. 
These mimes practiced their mimicry in the villages and cross¬ 
roads, and became the models for the strolling players of the 
middle ages. 

Christianity, however, recognized the necessity of the drama 
as a humanizing influence, and though years elapsed before its 
restoration as drama proper, the leaders of the new religion set 
about the substitution of wholesome Christian plays for the 
Roman indecencies to which they had recently given the death 
blow. The Scriptures and the liturgy of the church were rich 
stores from which were drawn the materials for the Mystery, 
the Morality, and the Miracle Plays. After a time these exhibi¬ 
tions passed from the control of churchmen into the hands of 
the Guilds. Under the management of the Guilds these plays 
soon lost their religious aspect, and before the end of the fifteenth 
century they had been completely divorced from church in¬ 
fluence, and were ready to be destroyed or absorbed by the spirit 
of the New Learning. This destruction or absorption, however, 
was not accomplished without a struggle. The leaders of the 
Renaissance advocated the complete dominance of classic in¬ 
fluence in the reconstruction of the drama, while the Medieval¬ 
ists strenuously advocated the perpetuation of the Mystery, 
Morality, and Miracle Plays. Of this travail, however, was born 
the modern drama. 

Italy, France, Germany, England, and Scandinavia contrib¬ 
uted largely to the formation of the modern drama, but prac¬ 
tically all the dramatic writers of these countries have been in¬ 
fluenced by the Greek and Roman masters. These masters have 
been slavishly imitated by all but a few of their pupils. This 



INTRODUCTION 


19 


is especially true in the matter of composition and technique. 
The observance of the unities, the harmony of rhyme, the smooth¬ 
ness of rhythm, the maintenance of the chorus, the number and 
character of the dramatis personae, etc., were classic restrictions, 
which, to a certain extent, have stultified the higher and broader 
aspirations of many a dramatic genius. Among those who 
rebelled against these restrictions, in so far as they affected the 
English drama, were some of the immediate predecessors of 
Shakespeare—Marlowe, Kyd, Green, and Lyly. These men 
opened the way for the sweeping innovations of Shakespeare, 
and for the half-hearted adoption of these innovations by Ben 
Jonson, who often apologized to his contemporaries for his 
temerity in disregarding the unities and other classic formuke. 

Since Shakespeare’s time, or what is known as the period of 
the Elizabethan drama, no English dramatic literature, worthy 
of comparison with the work of that great master, has appeared. 
During the reign of James I., Massinger, Middleton, Shirley, and 
others wrote, but their art was only a weak imitation of their 
masters, Marlowe and Shakespeare. Addison, Steele, Goldsmith, 
Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Shelley, Tennyson, and others, 
have sought recognition on the dramatic stage, but with little 
or no success. So far America has produced nothing of a 
dramatie nature worthy of recognition, and judging from the 
dominance of the light, frivolous, vaudeville performances on the 
English and American stages, the drama as a popular entertain¬ 
ment has been laid to rest, and the day of its resurrection seems 
far distant. 

V. THE REPRESENTATION OF THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE’S TIME 

The staging of the drama in Shakespeare’s time was a very 
different matter from what it is today. The primitive theaters, 
or theatrical inns, were rude wooden structures, usually circular 
in form, with a covered stage and covered galleries, and an open 



20 


MACBETH 


pit exposed to the vicissitudes of wind and weather. These crude 
structures were usually located outside the city walls, and be¬ 
yond the jurisdiction of the city authorities, for, at that time, 
all theatrical representations were held in disfavor by the Puri¬ 
tanical leaders in church and state. The gallants of the town 
occupied the stage with the players, and delighted in chaffing and 
interrupting the actors with irrelevant puns and clownish 
mimicry. The middle classes occupied the galleries and often 
enjoyed the spontaneous sallies of wit and repartee between the 
gallants and the players more than they enjoyed the play itself. 
The “tag-rag,’’ or what then might have been regarded as we 
regard our present-day “gallery gods,” occupied the pit, and 
when not dodging the not infrequent missiles hurled from the 
stage, or the snow or rain from the open firmament, they could 
appreciate a good comedy or a real drama as well as could the 
more favored occupants of the reserved places. The stage had 
no scenery, that being first introduced by Davenant after the 
Restoration. There were no rise and fall of a curtain to mark 
the opening and close of a scene. The entrance to the stage was 
strewn with rushes instead of being carpeted; the walls were 
hung with arras; a large board with names painted on it indi¬ 
cated where the scenes of the play being produced were laid. 
For tragedies the walls were hung with black tapestry; Shake¬ 
speare speaks of “Black stage for tragedies and murders fell” 
(“Lucrece”) ; and History, addressing Comedy, says: 

Look, Comedy, I mark’d it not till now, 

The stage is hung with black, and I perceive 

The auditors prepar’d for tragedie. 

A Warning for Fair Women . 

Before the Restoration women’s parts were acted by boys, 
and even among the audience no woman might appear unless 
masked. The union of the serious and the comic in the same 
play was common, and clowns were apt to thrust themselves 






INTRODUCTION 


21 


upon the stage on all occasions, much to the annoyance of 
Shakespeare himself. (See Hamlet , III., ii., 43.) The costume 
and many other stage accessories were almost entirely lacking, 
and the few that were used were usually inappropriate. Thus 
the gorgeous stage setting of the present day, which adds so 
much to the successful presentation of the drama, had to be sup¬ 
plied by the keen imagination of the audience; and here we 
get a fair appreciation of the high degree of intelligence de¬ 
manded from theater-goers of the Elizabethan period. 

VI. THE CONSTRUCTION OP THE DRAMA 

“A drama undertakes to tell a story by presenting a few 
episodes or situations from which the entire course of the action 
can be inferred. Inasmuch as these scenes are to be presented in 
rapid succession to an audience, they must be not only clear and 
easy to follow, but, to be interesting, they must also afford op¬ 
portunity for striking, significant action on the part of the char¬ 
acters. Further, inasmuch as in a drama the author has no op¬ 
portunity to tell his audience directly what he thinks of his 
characters, these latter must reveal their natures and purposes 
by their attitude toward one another, as manifested in speech 
or action. It is most important that every action in a drama be 
explained, prepared for, given a motive, by something which has 
already taken place, or some trait of character already indi¬ 
cated /’—Robert Morss Lovett . 

VII. DATE OF COMPOSITION OF MACBETH 

Plausible arguments point to 1606 as the year in which 
Macbeth was completed, but we know nothing more definite than 
that it was composed between 1604 and 1610. James I ascended 
the throne in 1603. In the following year he was proclaimed 
King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland. The lines spoken 
by Macbeth during the “Show of Eight Kings” (IY. i. 121) 




22 


MACBETH 


contain an undoubted allusion to King Janies’ coronation and 
to the union of three kingdoms under one sovereign. This 
internal allusion, then, marks the year 1604 as being a limit 
before which the play could not have been written. 

External evidence affords a proof that the play was not 
written later than the year 1610. Dr. Simon Forman,* an 
astrologer and quack, gives in his diary—the MS. of which is 
still in existence—an account of the play Macbeth as he saw 
it represented at the Globe Theater on the 20th of April, 1610. 

The following arguments, of no great validity individually, 
but of importance when regarded collectively, have been put 
forward to prove the play was written in 1606. 

1. The Porter’s speech in II. iii., “Faith, here’s an equivo- 
cator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale,” 
is thought to have reference to the trial of the Jesuit Garnett,! 
which took place in 1606. That this may have been the case is 
not improbable, for the Jesuits were frequently made the marks 
for the satire of Elizabethan preachers, and we are told, falsely, 
however, in the account of Garnett’s trial, published in 1606, 
that they both allowed and taught their followers ‘ ‘ to equivocate 
upon oath.” 

2. The allusion in the same speech to the “farmer that 
hanged himself on the expectation of plenty,” is commonly 
supposed to have been suggested by the abundant harvest of 
the year 1606. That year wheat was lower in Windsor market 
than it was for thirteen years afterwards, also lower than in the 
previous year. 

3. The same speech contains a reference to “stealing out of 
a French hose.” From Antony Nixon’s “Black Year,” 1606, 
we learn that tailors “took more than enough for fashion’s 
sake.” 


♦Forman, Dr. Simon, born in Quidhampton, England, 1552; died 1611. 
f Garnett, Henry, born in England 1555 ; executed at London 1606. An Eng¬ 
lish Jesuit falsely accused of implication in the Gunpowder plot. 








INTRODUCTION 


23 


4. In 1605 three students of St. John’s College, Cam¬ 
bridge, addressed King James in Latin verses founded on the 
witches ’ predictions to Macbeth. “ It is not likely, ’ ’ says Fleay,* * * § 
‘ 1 that they would choose this subject after Shakespeare had 
treated it.” 

5. Two passages from Plutarch’sf “Life of Antony” are 
alluded to in this play, “The insane root that takes the reason 
prisoner,” and “My Genius is rebuked, as it is said Mark 
Antony’s was, by Caesar.” From this circumstance Mr. Fleay* 
concludes that Shakespeare “was then probably reading for 
Antony and Cleopatra, which was produced before May, 1608.” 

6. Middleton’s| The Puritan, 1607, contains the passage, 
“we’ll have a ghost in a white sheet sit at the upper end of the 
table.” These words are commonly supposed to refer to 
Banquo’s ghost in Macbeth. 

Macbeth was not published during its author’s lifetime, 
but first appeared in print in the ‘ ‘ First Folio ’ ’§ of 1623, where 
it comes between Julius Caesar and Hamlet. The text in this 
edition is extremely defective, and is generally supposed to 
have been printed from an imperfect transcript of the author’s 
MS. The play, as we have it, is the shortest of Shakespeare’s 
tragedies, and is probably nothing more than an actor’s copy. 

Shakespeare’s later plays are distinguished from his earlier 
works by a greater richness of thought, a wider knowledge of 
human life, and by a nicer choice of more serious subjects for 
their motives. With respect to the style of any play, it is con¬ 
ceded that the more irregular the meter, the greater the quantity 


* Fleay, Rev. Frederick Gard, an English author; began writing in 1857. 

t Plutarch, born at Chaeronea, Greece, A. D. 46. Greek historian, 

t Middleton, Thomas, born London, 1570; died 1627. An English dramatist. 

§ The terms “folio and quarto” in reality denote nothing more than the par¬ 
ticular size and shape of a book, a folio being a large book, the pages of which 
are formed by a sheet of paper once doubled; a quarto, a smaller book, of 
which the pages are formed by a sheet of paper folded in four parts. To the 
student of Shakespeare, however, the terms have a more special significance. All 
the plays, fifteen in number, which were printed during the poet’s lifetime, were 
printed in quarto. These plays were entered in the registers of the Stationers’ 
Company, and are usually of ascertained date. The remaining twenty-one plays 
Of the poet remained unprinted until they appeared in folio in 1623. 





24 


MACBETH 


of prose, the more frequent the double (or feminine) endings, 
and the fewer the rhyming lines, the later is the period of 
composition. 

A consideration of the metrical evidence (see page 169) leads 
to the conclusion that Macbeth was composed about the year 
1606. This play hears, in a marked degree, the characteristics 
of Shakespeare’s third period of composition, which extends 
from about 1602 to 1608, and includes Macbeth, Hamlet, Othello, 
King Lear, Antony and Cleopatra, and Coriolanus. The meter 
of this period is characterized by great freedom: 

1. Trisyllabic feet abound. 

2. Short lines are numerous. 

3. Double endings are greatly multiplied. 

4. The number of Alexandrines gradually increases. 

5. Prose and verse are intermingled, frequently in the same 
scene. 

6. The number of rhyming lines gradually falls off, or 
rhyme is confined to elevated passages and concluding verses. 

7. Unnatural conceits are avoided, e. g., profoundness is not 
lavished on shallow ideas, and the language employed is more 
generally characteristic of the speaker. 

Gervinus,* commenting on Shakespeare’s third period of - 
dramatic poetry, in which tragedy greatly predominates, speaks 
as follows: 

“The unnatural dissolving of natural bonds, oppression, 
falsehood, treachery, and ingratitude towards benefactors, 
friends, and relatives, towards those to whom the most sacred 
duties should be dedicated, this is the new tragical conception, 
which now most powerfully and profoundly occupies the poet 
in the most various works of this epoch of his life . . . Mac¬ 
beth’s treason towards his benefactor, Duncan, displays this 
ingratitude.” 


* Gervinus, Georg Gottfried, born at Darmstadt, Germany, 1805; died 
Heidelberg, 1871. A celebrated German historian and critic. 


at 






INTRODUCTION 


25 


VIII. DISTINCTIVE FEATURES OF THE PLAY 

Drake* * * § speaks of Macbeth as “the greatest effort of our 
author’s genius; the most sublime and impressive drama which 
the world has ever beheld,” and it has always proved to be one 
of the most popular of Shakespeare’s plays. The reason for this 
popularity is not hard to find. In the first place, it is the most 
rapid and the simplest of the poet’s dramas, the characterization 
being most apparent and easily understood. Again it deals with 
the supernatural, which always arouses interest, and ‘ ‘ the super¬ 
natural influence determines the course of the action with a 
precipitation which in itself appears almost supernatural.” 
Finally, to the never-ceasing interest of incident and charac¬ 
terization, there is added the charm of pictorial description and 
poetic coloring. 

“There can hardly be a single point of incident or of char¬ 
acter on which the youngest reader will not find himself at one 
with the oldest, the dullest with the brightest, among the schol¬ 
ars of Shakespeare .”—Swinburne A 

“The action of this drama occupies a considerable period of 
time, but in the rapidity of its movement and the intensity of its 
interest, the matter of duration may not be considered.—The 
Fatest are weaving their dark web on the bosom of time, and the 
storm and whirlwind of events are impelling the hero to his first 
desperate act. These same agencies afterward impel him to 
commit other atrocious crimes, to secure the fruits of the assassi¬ 
nation, and they drive him at last to his own destruction, amid 
the blood and carnage of a hand-to-hand conflict. The whole 
tragical exhibition resembles the course of a terrifying comet. ’ ’§ 
“Macbeth stands forth uniquely pre-eminent in the splendor 

* Drake, Nathan, born at York, England, 1766; died, 1836. An English 
physician and author. , „„„„ 

t Swinburne, Algernon Charles, born at London, 1837; died, 1909. An 
English poet and author. , ^ , w 

t The Roman Parcae. corresponding to the Greek Moerae. 

§ Schlegel, August Wilhelm von, born at Hanover, Germany, 1767; died, 
1845. A celebrated German poet and critic. 




26 


MACBETH 


of poetic and picturesque diction, and in the living representa¬ 
tion of persons, times, and places. . . . Locally, we are trans¬ 
ported into the Highlands of Scotland, where everything appears 
tinged with superstition . . . ; where men are credulous in 
belief, and excitable in fancy; where they speak with strong 
expression, with highly poetical language, and with unusual 
imagery. ’’— Gervinus* * * § 

‘‘All the preparatory incidents are poetical. The moon is 
down; Banquo and Fleance walk by torchlight; the servants are 
moving to rest; Macbeth is alone. He sees ‘the air-drawn dag¬ 
ger’ which leads him to Duncan; he is still under the influ¬ 
ence of some power stronger than his will; he is beset with 
false creations; his imagination is excited; he moves to blood¬ 
shed amidst a crowd of poetical images, with which his mind 
dallies, as it were, in its agony.”— Knight.\ 

“There is a line in the play of Macbeth , uttered as the eve¬ 
ning shadows begin to gather on the day of Banquo’s murder, 
which we may repeat to ourselves as a motto of the entire trag¬ 
edy, ‘Good things of day begin to droop and drowse.’ It is the 
tragedy of the twilight and the setting in of thick darkness upon 
a human soul. We assist at the spectacle of a terrible sunset in 
folded clouds of blood.”— Dowden.% 

IX. MACBETH AND HAMLET—A CONTRAST 

“Of all Shakespeare’s plays, Macbeth is the most rapid, 
Hamlet the slowest, in movement,” says Coleridge.§ The trag¬ 
edies resemble each other especially in that the supernatural 
plays an important part in each. Macbeth and Hamlet commit 
murders, and the two plays present certain points of similarity 
in the final scene. But the contrast between the plays as well as 

* See footnote, p. 24. 

t Knight, Charles, born at Windsor, England, 1791; died, 1873. An Eng¬ 
lish publisher and author. 

t Dowden, Edward, born at Cork, Ireland, 1843; still living, 1915. An 
eminent Irish critic and poet. 

§ Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, born at t)ttery St. Mary, England, 1772 ; died 
at London, 1834. An English poet, philosopher, and literary critic. 








INTRODUCTION 


27 


between the characters of the heroes is much greater than the 
resemblance. In Macbeth, conscience is awakened after the deed; 
Hamlet has scruples which restrain him too long from the deed. 
In Macbeth, the murder of Duncan was an act of the basest in ¬ 
grati tude. For Hamlet to have murdered Claudius would, in the 
circumstances in which he was placed, have been regarded as 
an act of righteous punishment. In Hamlet adverse fate pur¬ 
sues the hero for tardiness of action; in Macbeth, fate, through 
the instrumentality of tftfc witches, drives the hero onward from 
crime to crime with breathless rapidity. Hamlet is brave and 
careless of death, vacillating from sensibility, procrastinating 
through too much thinking. He is ‘ ‘ a man of a civilized period 
standing in the center of an heroic age of rough manners and 
physical daring. ” Macbeth is courageous when in action, a 
coward when he thinks. His bravery is that of the ferocious 
animal, and his almost savage nature is, in the play, contrasted 
with the civilization of the age in which he lives. Christianity 
was well established in England, though it had gained but little 
hold upon the generality of Scotchmen in Macbeth’s time. 
Macbeth’s reason for not committing suicide is “Whiles I see 
lives, the gashes do better upon them;” Hamlet is restrained 
by the thought: “0 that the Everlasting had not fixed His 
canon ’gainst self-slaughter.” 

“In Hamlet and Macbeth the scene opens wi th superstition; 
but in each it is not merely different, but opposite. In the first 
it is connected with the best and holiest feelings; in the second 
with the shadowy, turbulent, and unsanctified cravings of the 
individual will. Nor is the purpose the same; in the one the 
object is to excite, whilst in the other it is to mark a mind 
already excited. ...” 

“The style and rhythm of the Captain’s [Sergeant’s] speeches 
in the second scene should be illustrated by reference to the inter¬ 
lude in Hamlet, in which the epic is substituted for the tragic, in 
order to make the latter be felt as the real life diction. In 










28 


MACBETH 


Macbeth the poet’s object was to raise the mind at once to the 
high tragic tone, that the audience might be ready for the 
precipitate consummation of guilt in the early part of the play. ’ ’ 
— Coleridge* * * § 

X. SOURCES OF THE PLAY 

Ralph Holinshed’sf “Chronicle of Scotland,” written in 
1577, furnished Shakespeare with the striking incidents which 
form the subject of the play. Holinshed himself had borrowed 
from Bellenden’sj: Scotch translation of the Latin Chronicle of 
Hector Boethius.§ 

In the supernatural portions of the play—which are elabo¬ 
rated from the scanty allusion to witches and wizards in the 
chronicle—the poet has embodied most of the traditional beliefs 
of his own time. Doubtless he obtained hints also from James I’s 
* ‘ Daemonologie, ’ ’ published in 1597, and reprinted in 1603, and 
from Reginald Scot’s|| “Discoverie of Witchcraft,” 1584. 

In his construction of the play, Shakespeare has made use 
of two separate portions of Holinshed’s Chronicle, and has made 
such changes affecting persons, time, and place, that the trag¬ 
edy can not be properly regarded as an historical play, even if 
it were certain that the events narrated by Holinshed himself 
were historically accurate. The greater part of the play is 
founded upon the “Historie of Macbeth,” while for the details 
of the murder of King Duncan, Shakespeare borrowed from an 
earlier page of the Chronicle—from the account of the murder 
of King Duff by Donwald, Captain of the Castle of Forres. 

In the Chronicle of Holinshed, Shakespeare found an excel¬ 
lent subject for a drama of a tragical nature, and we need not 
be surprised therefore to find that in many of the principal inci- 

* See footnote, p. 26. 

t Holinshed, Raphael, born at Cheshire, England ; died about 1580. An Eng¬ 
lish chronicler. 

t Bellenden, born at Berwick, Scotland, about 1500; died at Rome 1550. A 
Scotch poet and prose writer. 

§ Boethius, Hector, born about 475 A. D.; died about 542 A. D. A Roman 
philosopher. 

|| Scot, Reginald ; died 1599. An English author. 




INTRODUCTION 


29 


dents the dramatist has closely followed the historian. A few of 
the more important resemblances are mentioned here. 

1. That Macbeth was the support of his cousin, the weak 
King Duncan, against internal rebels and external enemies. 

2. The prophecies of the three witches to Macbeth and 
Banquo. 

3. That Lady Macbeth was “verie ambitious,” and incited 
her husband to the murder, the suspicion of which fell on the 
sons who fled. 

4. That fearful tempests and unnatural portents marked the 
period of the murder. 

5. The growth of suspicion against Macbeth and the dete¬ 
rioration of his character after the first murder. 

6. That envy and mistrust caused Macbeth to murder 
Banquo, and that Fleance escaped. 

7. Macbeth’s mistrust of Macduff, Macduff’s flight, and the 
murder of his family. 

8. The further deceptive prediction of the witches. 

9. The whole of the conversation between Macduff and Mal¬ 


colm. 

10. The deliverance of Scotland by Malcolm, with assistance 
from England. 

To the student of the drama it may perhaps be of more 
importance to observe carefully the chief points wherein Shake¬ 
speare departs from, or considerably enlarges upon, his author¬ 
ity, than to study minutely the points of resemblance. Such 
changes fall naturally under two heads, Changes of Incident, 
and Character Digressions. 

if Changes of Incident 

1. In Holinshed* the rebellion of Macdonwald, the invasion 
of Sweno, King of Norway, and a subsequent attack upon Scot¬ 
land by the forces of Canute, are three separate and distinct 


See footnote, p. 28. 




30 


MACBETH 


events which took place at different times. Shakespeare has 
combined the three into one, and has drawn incidents from each 
to avoid scattering them over a longer period than the time 
of action necessitated. 

2. The death of Macdonwald, who, in Holinshed,* slew him¬ 
self, is by Shakespeare ascribed to the hand of Macbeth. This 
change is introduced to reflect luster on the warlike character 
of the hero. 

3. In Holinshed the murder of the King (Duff) is perpe¬ 
trated by four hired servants. In Shakespeare, Macbeth, with 
his own hand, murders King Duncan. Shakespeare makes this 
modification in order to magnify the horror of the scene and to 
enhance the character-interest of the play. 

4. In Holinshed, Banquo is murdered after his return from 
Macbeth’s banquet; in Shakespeare he is murdered on his way 
thither. This change provides an opportunity for displaying 
both Macbeth and his wife in a strking situation. 

5. According to the historical account, Macbeth reigned sev¬ 
enteen years. Shakespeare has considerably curtailed the time 
of action because the development of the tragedy within proper 
limits requires rapid movements and swift changes. 

Character Digressions 

1. Macbeth in history possessed many admirable character¬ 
istics, which Shakespeare has omitted to mention. Holinshed 
speaks of him as “the sure defense and buckler of innocent 
people,” and states that for some time he “used great liberal tie 
towards the nobles of the realme,” and “set his whole intention 
to mainteine justice. ’ ’ The purpose of this change is to simplify 
and render more consistent the character of Macbeth, and to 
accentuate the witches’ influence, which in the play is repre¬ 
sented as being ever at work. 

2. Shakespeare has taken his idea of Lady Macbeth from 


See footnote, p. 28. 




INTRODUCTION 


31 


an allusion in Ilolinshed to the wife of Donald, who incited her 
husband to murder King Duff. But in his characterization he 
has enlarged and improved upon the hints which he found in the 
history. He has made the haughty and ambitious Lady Macbeth 
proud of her husband, whom she loves, and for whose sake she 
stifles her conscience and changes her nature. Moreover, the 
Chronicle contains no suggestion of the “single ray which lightens 
the black depravity of a mind otherwise dead to every softer 
feeling of humanity. ’ ’ This change is necessary, because if 
Shakespeare had represented his heroine as coarse or inhumanly 
cruel, she would have forfeited all claim to human sympathy. 

3. The Chronicle represents Banquo as scarcely less guilty 
than is the actual murderer of Duncan. We there read that 
Macbeth communicated his intent to “his trustie friends, amongst 
whom Banquo was the chiefest.” This deviation undoubtedly 
heightens, by contrast and variety, the interest of the characteri¬ 
zation. Shakespeare again deviates in the character of Banquo* 
by making him, out of compliment to James I, a legendary 
ancestor of the king. 

History does not record the fate of the usurper’s queen. 
In the Chronicle, Macbeth fled before Macduff. Neither the first 
scene of the play; the dagger scene; the scene of the banquet; 
nor the sleep-walking scene, has any counterpart in Holinshed. 

“The story of the Scottish Thane, as it stood written in the 
Chronicle, is the subject not the action of Macbeth. To convert 
a subject—whatever its kind or source—into the action or fable 
of a play is the primary task, which in its progressive develop¬ 
ment becomes the entire task of the dramatist.”— Ward* 

XI. ON WITCHES AND WITCHCRAFT 

The modem playgoer is apt to scorn the notion of witches, 
and the practice of witchcraft. But modern ideas upon the 

* Ward, Adolphus William, born at Hampstead, England, 1837. An Eng¬ 
lish educator and writer. 




32 


MACBETH 


subject are very different from those which were prevalent at 
the period in which Macbeth was written. It is difficult, in this 
age of enlightenment, to dispossess oneself of the negative con¬ 
victions which have gradually grown in intensity since the legal 
abolition, in 1736, of witchcraft as a crime, and to regard it as 
Shakespeare’s contemporaries regarded it. However, if we bear 
in mind a few of the following facts we may be able to under¬ 
stand the views of Elizabethan audiences, who believed in, but 
abhorred witchcraft. The eminent lawyers Coke, Bacon, and 
Hall, admitted the possibility of witchcraft. 

A witch has been defined by a historian of witchcraft as 
one 4 ‘who can do, or seems to do, strange things, beyond the 
power of art and ordinary nature, by virtue of a confederacy 
with Satanic powers.” 

Bishop Jewel, # preaching before Queen Elizabeth, in 1558, 
remarked: “It may please your Grace to understand that 
Witches and Sorcerers within these last few years are marvel¬ 
ously increased within your Grace’s realm.” 

The numerous trials for witchcraft which took place in the 
sixteenth and in the earlier part of the seventeenth centuries, 
afford abundant evidence not only that witches were commonly 
supposed to exist, but also that those accused of being witches 
believed themselves to be such. 

In 1576, Bessie Dunlop was accused of having held inter¬ 
course with a devil, who appeared to her in the shape of a 
neighbor recently deceased. She was condemned to death upon 
her own confession. 

In 1590, John Fian, a young schoolmaster, styled “Register 
to the Devil,” was accused of having caused a leak in the ship 
which conveyed James I (I of England and VI of Scotland) 
and his bride, Anne of Denmark, home to Scotland. During 
the trial, Fian showed that by witchcraft he could open locks. 

* Jewel, John, born in Ebgland 1522 ; died in 1571. An English bishop and 
author. 




INTRODUCTION 


33 


Agnes Sampsoune confessed to King James that to compass 
his death she took a black toad, hung it by the hind legs for three 
days, and collected the vemon that fell from it. 

James L, himself a believer in witchcraft and all kinds of 
sorcery, published his ‘ ‘ Dtemonologie, ’ ’ at Edinburgh, in 1597. 
The book was reprinted in London, in 1603, with a preface, 
informing the reader of “the fearfull abounding at this time in 
this Countrey, of these detestable slaves of the Devil, the Witches, 
or enchanters. ’’ 

In this monarch's first Parliament, in 1604, a statute passed 
both Houses which enacted that “if any person shall practice 
or exercise any invocation or conjuration of any evil or wicked 
spirit, or shall consult with, entertain, feed, or reward any evil 
and wicked spirit, or take up any dead man, woman, or child 
out of his, her, or their grave ... or the skin, bone, or any 
other part of any dead person to be employed or used in any 
manner of witchcraft . . . or shall . . . practice . . . any witch¬ 
craft . . . whereby any person shall be killed, wasted, pined, 
or lamed in his or her body or any part thereof, such offender 
shall suffer the pains of death as felons, without benefit of clergy 
or sanctuary."* 

In the case of the Lancashire witches, in 1634, seventeen 
persons were condemned on the evidence of one boy. 

In the case of the Suffolk witches, in 1665, Sir Matthew 
Halef was the judge, and Sir Thomas Browne! was the medical 
expert witness. 

Many other evidences might be quoted, but those we have 
given will suffice to prove the implicit and almost universal 
belief in witches in Shakespeare’s time, and for many years 


* Quoted from Spalding’s “Elizabethan Demonology.”—Spalding, William, 
born at Aberdeen, Scotland, 1809 ; died, 1859. A Scottish critic, philosopher, and 
miscellaneous writer. 

tHale, Sir Matthew, born in England 1609 ; died in 1676. A celebrated Eng¬ 
lish jurist. 

t Browne, Sir Thomas, born at Dondon 1605 ; died in 1682. An English phy¬ 
sician and author. 




34 


MACBETH 


later. The last trial in England was that of Jane Wenham, in 
1712, convicted at Hertford, but not executed. 

It is probable that the belief in witches had a religious 
origin. Before the conversion of King ^Ethelberht to Chris¬ 
tianity, in the sixth century, the inhabitants of the British Isles 
worshipped a number of native deities of varying importance 
and power. On the introduction of Christianity these pagan 
deities may be supposed to have been, to some extent, incor¬ 
porated into the national religion, but to have been degraded 
to the rank of evil spirits or demons. The religion of Greece 
had passed through the same process before the introduction of 
Christianity into that country, and there Hecate retained to the 
last her position of active patroness and encourager of witch¬ 
craft. Hence the practice became almost indissolubly connected 
with her name. These evil spirits or demons were supposed to 
be specially concerned with the human race, and the person 
particularly susceptible to their influence was “the pitiable 
object, whether man or woman, whom age, infirmity, or poverty, 
had humbled to the lowest depth of misery/’ 

Witches were commonly supposed to be capable of performing 
the wonderful feats which Shakespeare has attributed to the 
Three Weird Sisters. It was believed that they could foretell 
future events, or “look into the seeds of time and say which 
grain will grow and which will not”; they could create tempests, 
hail, thunder, and lightning; they were able to sink ships, dry 
up springs, arrest the course of the sun, stay both day and night, 
and change the one into the other; they could compass the death 
of those upon whom they had designs, and by means of special 
preparations and ointments, could themselves vanish out of 
sight. To make their charms they opened graves and from 
the dead bodies took fingers, toes, and knees—in the cases of 
John Fian and the Witches of the play, IV, i, the members of 
unbaptized infants were preferred. They could open locks, 
could ride upon the blast, and in riddles or sieves, in egg-shells 



INTRODUCTION 


35 


and cockle-shells sail through tempestuous seas. They sum¬ 
moned souls from the grave, and possessed the power of trans¬ 
forming themselves into wolves, rats, etc. 

Witches were held to perform their actions under the direc¬ 
tion of Satan. He was supposed to preside at the Witches ’ 
Sabbath, and to him were assigned at different times the names 
Hecate, Diana, and Sybilla. As the direct power of the Evil 
One over mankind has always been limited, so in the case of the 
witches, “they have no authority with fatalistic power to do 
violence to the human will.” They were unable to destroy the 
lives of the persons they persecuted unless they could persuade 
them to renounce God. It is to be presumed, therefore, that 
the sailor’s wife in I. iii. was a devout woman, for the Witch 
proposed to inflict no personal injury upon her, and could do 
no more than persecute her husband: 

Though his bark cannot be lost, 

Yet it shall be tempest-tost. 

* 1 The sort of such as are said to be witches, ’ ’ writes Scot,* in 
1584, “are women which be commonly old, lame, bleareied, pale, 
fowle, and full of wrinkles. . . . They are leane and deformed, 
showing melancholie in their faces, to the horror of all that 
see them.” A beard was also, in Elizabethan times, a recog¬ 
nized characteristic of the witch. Spenserf has given a striking 
picture of the habitation of a witch in the lines— 

There in a gloomy hollow glen she found 
A little cottage built of stickes and reedes 
In homely wise, and wald with sods around; 

In which a Witch did dwell, in loathly weedes 
And wilful want, all carelesse of her needes. 

We have seen how fully Shakespeare availed himself of 
the popular traditions relating to witchcraft. It would, how- 


* See footnote, p. 28. 
t Spenser, Edmund, born 
lish poet. 


at London, 1552; died in 1599. 


A celebrated Eng- 




36 


MACBETH 


ever, be an error to think that Shakespeare’s Witches are noth¬ 
ing more than the dramatic impersonations of the witch of 
popular tradition. The poet has taken all his local color from 
home-bred superstition, but he has given to his creations a 
poetical grandeur and an awe which elevates them far above 
the conceptions of witches commonly accepted in his time. 
Dowden* speaks of them as powers auxiliary to vice existing 
outside ourselves, nameless and sexless, and likens them to “the 
terrible old women f of Michael Angelo,$ who control the destinies 
of man.” 

“Shakespeare fearlessly showed us his weird sisters, ‘the 
goddesses of destinie’ brewing infernal charms in their wicked 
cauldron. ... Yet these weird sisters remain terrible and sub¬ 
lime. They tingle in every fiber with evil energy, as the tem¬ 
pest does with the electric current; their malignity is inexhaust¬ 
ible ; they are wells of sin springing up into everlasting death; 
they have their raptures and ecstasies in crime; they snatch with 
delight at the relics of impiety and foul disease; they are the 
awful inspirers of murder, insanity, suicide.”— Dowden * 
Shakespeare, His Mind and Art . 

XII. WHAT IS TRAGEDY ? 

Tragedy solves the problems of life as a farce sums up its 
follies. Coleridge says that in Shakespeare “tragedy was poetry 
in the deepest earnest; comedy was mirth in the highest zest, 
exulting in the removal of all bounds.” Again, “Tragedy as 
conceived by Shakespeare,” says Dowden,* “is concerned with 
the ruin or the restoration of the soul, and of the life of men. 
In other words, its subject is the struggle of good and evil in the 
world.” A play is not a tragedy merely because it tells a tale of 


* See footnote, p. 26. 

t The Fates: Clotho, the spinner; Lachesis, the disposer of lots; and 
Atropos, the inevitable. The first spins the thread of life; the second fixes its 
length ; and the third severs it. 

t Michael Angelo (Michelangelo), born at Caprese 1475; died at Rome, 1564. 
A famous Italian sculptor, painter, architect, and poet. 




INTRODUCTION 


37 


death or suffering. Its characteristic motive is “the exhibition 
of man in unsuccessful conflict with circumstances. ’ 9 It must 
appeal to our emotions—to our pity or terror—and the actions 
which arouse these emotions must, at the same time, elevate the 
mind that contemplates them. In a tragedy the result often 
springs from a cause quite remote from that to which we 
attribute the result. Macbeth is tragic because of the promis 
[and possibilities which have come to nothing, not because the 
s/iero and his wife died miserable deaths. Throughout the first 
half of the play Macbeth seems likely to attain his ends. Even 
after he has made the fatal error of murdering Banquo, and of 
disclosing his crime to the guests at the banquet, when ruin 
threatens him, there is still, in the wonderfully powerful con¬ 
struction of the second half of the play, the suggestion of a 
possible recovery. But Macbeth has attempted the impossible, 
and because the means he employs are wicked and inhuman, the 
inevitable consequences of his action work themselves out, and 
the result is tragedy. “The powers of evil in which he has 
trusted turn against him and betray him. His courage becomes 
a desperate rage. We are in pain until the horrible necessity 
is accomplished. ’ ’ 




XIII. THE CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY 

Duncan 


Duncan is such a king as might be expected to offer a mark 
to rebels, traitors, and ambitious aspirants to sovereignty. He 
is “a man born out of his proper age into a century of intrigue 
and violence. ” He is a virtuous monarch, beloved by the faith¬ 
ful few, but of. too refined and peaceful a nature to cope with 
the turbulent and warlike spirits against whom he has to con¬ 
tend. At the beginning of the play, he damages his own prestige 
and endangers his own position by committing to Macbeth the 
safe-guarding of his interests, which he ought himself to have 




38 


MACBETH 


undertaken. He is spoken of as “the gracious Duncan,” “a 
most sainted king,” and one who 

Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been 

So clear in his great office, that his virtues (I. vii. 17) 

“will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against” his murderer. 
His too great trustfulness is exhibited by the favors he lavishes 
upon his “peerless kinsman,” and by the unsuspicious way in 
which he visits Macbeth’s castle and places himself freely in his 
hands. It would have been well for him had he known some¬ 
thing of the practical political wisdom displayed by the Gar¬ 
dener in Richard II, and 

Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays, 

That look too lofty in our commonwealth. 

Had he done so, he might have lived to taste the fruits of 
duty rendered by loyal subjects. Instead of that, the thane of 
Cawdor, “that most disloyal traitor,” a gentleman on whom 
Duncan “built an absolute trust,” rent his kingdom with 
rebellion, and Macbeth, in whom he placed unbounded confi¬ 
dence, robbed him at once of his kingdom and his life. 

In Holinshed * Duncan is weaker and less effective as a king 
than he is in Shakespeare. The Chronicle says he was “so soft 
and gentle of nature” that men were constrained to wish that 
some of Macbeth’s more forcible qualities had been infused into 
him. 

“The beginning of Duncan’s reigne was verie quiet and 
peaceable, without anie notable trouble; but after it was per¬ 
ceived how negligent he was in punishing offenders, manie 
misruled persons tooke occasion thereof to trouble the peace 
and quiet state of the commonwealth.” 

We read also that the early success of Macdonwald “did 
put him in wonderfull feare, by reason of his small skill in war¬ 
like affaires.” 


See footnote, p. 28. 




INTRODUCTION 


39 


On the other hand, the Duncan of Holinshed* is neither so 
liberal, so saintly, nor so unsuspecting as the Duncan of Shake¬ 
speare, for he “did what in him lay to defraud him (Mac¬ 
beth) of all manner of title and claime, which he might, in time 
to come, pretend unto the crowne.” 



Macbeth 


Upon the characters of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth hang, in 
great measure, the issues of the play. The uncanny and super¬ 
natural influence of the Witches no doubt counts for much, and 
often seems to shape the course of events, but it is important 
to remember that if the characters of Macbeth and his wife 
had not been exactly what they were, the influence exerted by 
the Witches could never have had the results which it actually 


had. 


Macbeth’s personal valor and generalship are the qualities 
which first impress us. He is the life and soul of the army 
which Duncan himself should have led to victory. In the first 
engagement he is victorious through his personal prowess and 
generalship: 


But all’s too weak: 

For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name— 
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel, 
Which smoked with bloody execution, 

Like valour’s minion carved out his passage 
Till he faced the slave;—I. ii. 14. 


Nor is he dismayed when the army of the rebel is rein¬ 
forced “with terrible numbers” by the King of Norway, “as¬ 
sisted by that most disloyal traitor, the thane of Cawdor.” 
Again the victory falls to Macbeth—“Bellona’s bridegroom”— 
and he becomes forthwith the hero of the hour. With the prog¬ 
ress of events, as his conscience becomes hardened, and the 
powers of evil gradually assume their sway over him, he loses 


* See footnote, p. 28. 





40 


MACBETH 


something of his natural fearlessness, but in the hour of action 
his courage always reasserts itself. When Lady Macbeth is in 
fear lest he should waver from his purpose, it is to his manhood 
and his courage that she makes her appeal: 

When you durst do it, then you were a man; 

And, to be more than what you were, you would 

Be so much more the man.—I. vii. 49. 

This physical courage stands out in strong contrast to his moral 
cowardice. 

His fears in Banquo “stick deep” because he recognizes 
in him virtues which he himself does not possess, because 
Banquo, choosing to keep his “bosom franchised and allegiance 
clear,” will not become a partner in his crimes. The courage 
of Macbeth is the unthinking courage of the animal, whose 
instinct is to fight. When he reflects, he hesitates and fears, 
until he receives from his wife, or from the sense of security 
which he derives from communion with the Witches, the neces¬ 
sary impetus to action. After his degradation his courage 
becomes desperation, and by ruthless acts of cruelty and savagery 
he strives to keep aflame within his breast the physical courage 
which was once his claim to our admiration. “Thou shalt not 
live,” he says of Macduff, another character by whose moral 
superiority his own genius is rebuked, 

That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, 

And sleep in spite of thunder.—IV. i. 85. 

Foiled in his purpose against Macduff, his savage frenzy be¬ 
comes the more unrestrained, and he will murder 

His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls 

That trace him in his line.—IV. i. 152. 

His cruelty knows no bounds. “Sighs and groans and shrieks 
that rend thTaiF'ar e - niftd ^ not mark’d,” so thoroughly does he 
act upon the resolve to exterminate Macduff and his posterity. 




INTRODUCTION 


41 


Yet he is an object of pity rather than of hate. Even his enemies 
feel for him, if they do not actually excuse him: 

Some say he’s mad; others, that lesser hate him, 

Do call it valiant fury (V. ii. 13), 

says Caithness, and Menteith suggests how terrible is the penalty 
he pays for his crimes: 

Who then shall blame 
His pester’d senses to recoil, and start, 

When all that is within him does condemn 
Itself for being there?—Y. ii. 22. 

After his courage. Macbeth ’s ambition next forces itself upon 
our attention. Of this we become conscious when, on his first 
appearance in the play, he ‘‘starts, and seems to fear” the fair¬ 
sounding prediction of the Witches. His “rapt” behavior, his 
anxiety and his brooding over the prophecy, all point to his hope 
of one day being king. It seems clear that the thought of the 
murder had already passed through his mind. (See I. iii. 51-7, 
and I. vii. 48-53.) His triumphant success and the flattering 
prediction of the Third Witch, “All hail, Macbeth! that shalt 
be king hereafter! * ’ fan the slumbering fires of his ambition into 
devouring flames. Near the end of the First Act, after a search¬ 
ing self-examination in connection with the murder he proposes 
to commit, he confesses, 

I have no spur 

To prod the sides of my intent, but only 
Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself, 

And falls on the other.—I. vii. 25. 

The analysis of Macbeth's character, as it was at the begin¬ 
ning of the play, is facilitated by the assistance of his wife. 
Lady Macbeth knows her husband, and, though she loves and 
admires him, yet no excess of passion or of imagination dims the 
clearness of her judgment. She sums up his character and her 
own fears for him in I. v. 17, and seq. 




42 


MACBETH 


From this passage the reader will observe that even to his 
wife Macbeth is but an ordinary man; his ambition is great, 
and he wishes to stand well with the world, but he is without 
principle and refrains from wrong-doing only from custom or 
from the fear of detection. The future of such a man neces¬ 
sarily depends upon his environment and the temptations by 
which he is assailed. 

Macbeth, at first, appears to be a man of . good intention s, 
who lives a virtuou s life, and who, in an ordinary sphere of 
existence, might so continue to the end. But his character is 
weak. In the first place, he is unable to resist the alluring 
' temptations to which his power and his successes give birth; and 
secondly, he is unable to resist the over-mastering will of his 
cold-blooded, ambitious wife. Another source of his weakness 
is his imagination, which, being controlled neither by religion 
nor by education, naturally disposes him to lend a ready ear to 
the voice of temptation. 

His superstition is evident from his susceptibility to the 
influence of the Witches, contrasting strongly in the First Scene 
with the careless indifference of Banquo; it is seen also in the 
“ air-drawn dagger” that marshals him the way that he is 
going; in the paroxysm of fear which seizes him immediately 
after the murder of Duncan when his wife warns him: 

You do unbend your noble strength, to think 

So brainsickly of things (II. ii. 44), 

and when he dare not look on what he has done. Above all, the 
vision of Banquo’s Ghost at the feast, unseen by all except him¬ 
self, shows that he is tremulously alive to superstition. In this 
excess of imagination and superstition lie at once his strength 
and his weakness as a criminal. At one moment it hurries him on 
to crime, by displaying in vivid colors what seems to him the 
glorious fruits of ambition; at another it hurls him into the 
depths of despair, by calling up the visions of the past, and by 
making him see all too clearly the enormity of his crimes. 






INTRODUCTION 


43 


No sooner does Macbeth attain to the summit of his ambition 
by the murder of Duncan and Banquo, than his character suffers 
a complete revolution. He becomes distrustful, treacherous, 
cruel; he no longer listens to the voice of conscience, no longer 
hesitates when evil suggestions present themselves, but, following 
the natural bent of his evil propensities, he marches madly 
from crime to crime. We lose our sympathy with him until we 
see that he is suffering a penalty sterner and more terrible than 
the death he had inflicted upon Duncan and Banquo. “He 
puts on despondency,’’ says Coleridge,* “the final heart-armor 
of the wretched, and would fain think everything shadowy and 
unsubstantial, as indeed all things are to those who cannot regard 
them as symbols of goodness.’’ 

“Macbeth retained enough of goodness to make him a hag¬ 
gard, miserable criminal; never enough to restrain him from 
a crime. ... Yet the soul of Macbeth never quite disappears 
into the blackness of darkness. He is a cloud without water, 
carried about of winds; a tree whose fruit withers, but not even 
to the last quite plucked up by the roots. For the dull ferocity 
of Macbeth is joyless. . . . Macbeth remembers that he once 
knew -there was such a thing as human goodness. He stands a 
haggard shadow against the handsbreadth of pale sky which 
yields us sufficient light to see him.”— Dowden .f 

“Thus Macbeth is essentially the practical man, the man 
of action, of the highest experience, power, and energy in mil¬ 
itary and political command, accustomed to the closest connec¬ 
tion between willing and doing. He is one who, in another age, 
would have worked out the problem of free trade, or unified 
Germany, or engineered the Suez Canal. On the other hand, he 
has concerned himself little with things transcendental; he is 
poorly disciplined in thought and goodness; prepared for any 
emergency in which there is anything to be done, yet a mental 


* See footnote, p. 26. 
fSee footnote, p. 26. 





44 


MACBETH 


crisis or a moral problem afflicts him with the shock of an 
unfamiliar situation. * ’—Moulton * 

“Macbeth in meeting them (the Witches) has to struggle 
against no external power, but only with his own nature; they 
bring to light the evil side of his character, which was not to be 
read in his face; he does not stumble upon the plans of his 
royal ambition, because the allurement approaches him from 
without; but this temptation is sensibly awakened in him, be¬ 
cause those plans have long been slumbering in his soul. Within 
himself dwell these spirits of evil, which allure him with the 
delusions of his aspiring mind. They approach him, as he 
stands on the highest step of his fortune, his favor, and his 
valor.’ ’— Gervinus. f 

“The preservation of Macbeth’s dignity in a degree suffi¬ 
cient to retain our sympathy, in spite of the preponderance of 
his wife’s nature over his, depends on the two facts of his 
undoubted heroism in his relations with men, and his great ten¬ 
derness for the woman whose evil will is made powerful over his 
partly by his affection for her. It is remarkable that hardly 
one scene passes where they are brought together in which he 
does not address to her some endearing appellation; and from 
his first written words to her whom he calls his ‘Dearest part¬ 
ner of greatness,’ to his pathetic appeal to her physician for 
some alleviation of her moral plagues, a love of extreme strength 
and tenderness is constantly manifested in every address to or 
mention of her that he makes .”—Frances Anne Kemble.% 

Lady Macbeth 

In his consideration of Lady Macbeth’s character the reader 
will do well to divest himself of the opinion frequently enter¬ 
tained, that she is nothing but a cruel monster, lacking the com- 

* Moulton, Richard Green, born at Preston, England, 1849; still living, 
1915. An English author, critic, and educator. 

t See footnote, p. 24. 

t Kemble, Frances Anne, born at London, 1809; died, 1893. An Anglo- 
American actress, Shakespearean reader, and author. 




INTRODUCTION 


45 


mon feelings of humanity, altogether unworthy of admiration 
or sympathy. We shall endeavor in our analysis of her char¬ 
acter to show that she possesses the feelings and much of the ten¬ 
derness natural to a woman; and further, what are the motives 
and the influences that cause her to aid in so foul and so treach¬ 
erous a murder. 

When first we see Lady Macbeth she is reading the letter 
from her husband, in which he recounts to her, his “dearest 
partner of greatness,” his successes, his superstitions, and his 
hopes. From her comments on the letter we perceive that she 
has studied well her husband’s character, admires his greatness, 
and wishes for him all that he wishes for himself. We can 
perceive no tone of selfishness in her ambition. Her whole soul 
is wrapped up in his schemes for his own advancement, and 
the part she assigns to herself is the furtherance of these schemes; 
knowing his weakness she resolves to use the whole force of her 
superior will to keep him in the course he has traced out for 
himself. “Hie thee hither,” she says, 

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; 

And chastise with the valour of my tongue 
All that impedes thee from the golden round. 

Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem 
To have thee crown’d withal.—I. v. 28. 

When husband and wife meet, a few moments later, her admir¬ 
ation is expressed in the greeting, “Great Glamis! worthy 
Cawdor!” while he, in terms of fondness, addresses her as “My 
dearest love.” Elsewhere in the play the bond of love and con¬ 
fidence which unites them is indicated by such expressions as 
“gentle my lord,” and “worthy thane,” on the one hand, and 
on the other, “my love,” “dear wife,” and “dearest chuck.” 
After the murder of Duncan, she exerts all her powers to give 
her husband courage and to support him in his weakness. In 
the banquet scene, when his superstitious fears and loss of self- 
command threaten certain ruin to both, she utters no word of 



46 


MACBETH 


reproach, but strives only to comfort and to excuse him. *‘You 
lack the season of all natures, sleep,” is the excuse she makes 
for the fatal mistake he has committed. 

Her feminine nature is evident in her devotion to her lord. 
Her cruelty is not natural, but is rather the result of the tem¬ 
porary repression of her nature by the force of her will. Where 
another woman might have struggled against the sinful prompt¬ 
ings of her heart, she struggles violently against the softer side 
of her nature: 

Come, you spirits 

That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, 

And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full 
Of direst cruelty!—I. v. 42. 

Such is her prayer to the powers of evil, “murdering minis¬ 
ters, ’’ when, for the sake of her husband, she resolves to commit 
the murder that he may be saved the hateful task; and such is 
her longing to serve him, that she would do it but for a feeling 
of tenderness against which she has not thought to steel herself: 

Had he not resembled 

My father as he slept, I had done ’t.—II. ii. 12. 

Thus her motive for the crime appears to be her unselfish love 
for her husband, for whom she wills the highest glory which he 
can attain. 

We need not multiply instances of her will power, but only 
suggest how fearful must have been the inward struggle before 
she returned to the chamber of death, to place the daggers by the 
side of the murdered Duncan. Her singleness of purpose is to be 
attributed in great measure to her lack of imagination. She 
sees no ghosts; no witches lie in wait for her. Her practical 
nature perceives the direct road to success, and until the climax 
is reached she never falters. While her husband’s strength 
lies in action, hers is in the sphere of thought. But in her 
thoughts she admits no compunctious visitings of nature. ‘ ‘ The 



INTRODUCTION 


47 


attempt and not the deed confounds us,” and “What need we 
fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account,” 
express her view of the murder, and her hopes for the realiza¬ 
tion of her husband’s ambition, 

"Which shall to all our nights and days to eome 
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.—I. v. 71. 

Although Lady Macbeth succeeds for a time in stifling her 
conscience, and although she refrains from all outward expres¬ 
sion of remorse, Shakespeare has, most skilfully, shown that such 
feelings did at times threaten to visit her. When she chides her 
husband in the words, 

These deeds must not be thought 
After these ways; so, it will make us mad (II. ii. 32), 

we may believe she feels the early premonitions of the fate that 
eventually overtakes her. When at last her mind gives way 
under the fearful strain she has put upon it, her unconscious 
utterances show us something of the nature which she has all 
the time been striving in vain to annihilate. Her stifled remorse 
reveals itself in her agitated sleep, in the awful sigh thrice 
repeated that bespeaks a heart “sorely charged.” In her 
assumed character she had once striven to encourage her husband 
by urging the fact that a little water would wash away the evi¬ 
dence of the deed, but now her natural feminine abhorrence of 
the sight and smell of blood finds expression in these heart¬ 
rending words, “Here’s the smell of the blood still: all the 
perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, 
oh! ” She has trusted too much to an unsafe reliance upon her 
human will. 

“More needs she the divine than the physician.” Her 
death was sudden and self-inflicted. In the awfulness of her 
end we are constrained to suspend judgment upon her crimes, 
and to repeat with the doctor, ‘ God, God forgive us all! ’ 

“In the mind of Lady Macbeth, ambition is represented as 




48 


MACBETH 


the ruling motive, an intense overmastering passion, which is 
gratified at the expense of every just and generous principle, 
and every feminine feeling. In the pursuit of her object, she is 
cruel, treacherous, and daring. She is doubly, trebly dyed in 
guilt and blood; for the murder she instigated is rendered more 
frightful by disloyalty and ingratitude, and by the violation of 
all the most sacred claims of kindred and hospitality. When 
her husband’s more kindly nature shrinks from the perpetration 
of the deed of horror, she, like an evil genius, whispers him on 
to his damnation. The full measure of her wickedness is never 
disguised, the magnitude and atrocity of her crime are never 
extenuated, forgotten, or forgiven, in the whole course of the 
play. ... Yet she is not a mere monster of depravity, with 
whom we have nothing in common, nor a meteor whose de¬ 
stroying path we watch in ignorant fright and amaze. She 
is a terrible impersonation of evil passions and mighty powers, 
never so far removed from our own nature as to be cast beyond 
the pale of our sympathies; for the woman herself remains a 
woman to the last—still linked with her sex and with humanity 

“The power of religion alone could have controlled such a 
mind; but it is often the misfortune of a very proud, strong, and 
gifted spirit, without sense of religion, that, instead of looking 
upward to find a superior, it looks round and imagines it sees all 
things as subject to itself. Lady Macbeth is placed in a dark, 
ignorant, iron age; her powerful intellect is slightly tinged with 
its credulity and superstitions, but she has no religious feeling to 
restrain the force of will. She is a stem fatalist in principle and 
action—‘what is done, is done/ and would be done over again 
under the same circumstances: her remorse is without repent¬ 
ance, or any reference to an offended Deity; it arises from the 
pang of a wounded conscience, the recoil of the violated feelings 
of nature; it is the horror of the past, not the terror of the 
future; the torture of self-condemnation, not the fear of judg- 







INTRODUCTION 


49 


ment; it is strong as her soul, deep as her guilt, fatal as her 
resolve, and terrible as her crime.”— Mrs . Jameson * 

Banquo 

Banquo acts as a foil to Macbeth. They are both brave and 
successful generals, and they are exposed to the same tempta¬ 
tions, but because their characters are opposed, their actions and 
careers present strong contrasts. Banquo ’s bravery is not 
inferior to that of Macbeth. They are spoken of together, “As 
cannons overcharged with double cracks,” and Macbeth gives tes¬ 
timony to ‘ ‘ his royalty of nature, ’ ’ when he says: 

Reigns that which would be fear’d; ’tis much he dures, 

And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, 

He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour 
To act in safety.—IXUi*~50. 

The nobility of Banquo’s nature is evidenced when Duncan 
greets the victorious generals on their return from battle. His 
modesty is no less remarkable than his freedom from envy. 
When Duncan says, 

Noble Banquo, 

Thou hast no less deserved, nor must be known 
No less to have done so, let me infold thee 
And hold thee to my heart (I. iv. 29), 

he modestly replies, 

There if I grow, 

The harvest is your own (I. iv. 32), 

and a moment later, he entertains the king with “commenda¬ 
tions” (not expressed in the play) of his more ambitious col¬ 
league. His speech before Macbeth’s castle, I. vi. 3-10, and the 
imagery he employs in connection with Fleance, II. i. 4, 5, give 
evidence of a refined and poetic nature. 

•Jameson, Mrs., n$e Anna Brownell Murphy, born at Dublin, Ireland, 
1794; died, 1860. An Irish authoress and essayist. 





50 


MACBETH 


Although Banquo first addresses the Witches, in the opening 
scene, it is noticeable that they make no reply, and utter no 
word until Macbeth has conjured them to speak. When they 
do speak it is in reply, not to Banquo’s questions, but to the 
unexpressed thoughts of Macbeth, who starts and seems to fear 
‘ i things that do sound so fair. ’ ’ Upon reflection, Banquo recog¬ 
nizes in the Witches “instruments of darkness,’’ against which 
he must put himself on his guard, for “oftentimes,” he says, 
“to win us to our harm” they tell us truths', 


Win us with honest trifles, to betray ’s 
In deepest consequence.—I. iii. 126. 


His own mind is not free from superstition, nor from a slight 
tinge of ambition, but he struggles against temptation and battles 
with the evil thoughts that assail him. The confiiet-is a stem 
one; he dare not even sleep: 


A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, 

And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, 
Bestrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature 
Gives way to in resposo!—II. i. 6. 


The contrast between his open, honest nature and the darker and 
more dissembling character of Macbeth, is clearly brought out 
in their conversation on the subject of the Witches: 

Ban.: I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: 

To you thoy have show’d some truth. 

Mach.: I think not of them: 


Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, 

Wc would spend it in some words upon that business, 
If you would grant the time. 


Ban.: 
Mach.: 


If you shall cleave to my consent, when His, 
It shall make honour for you. 


At your kindest leisure. 


Ban.: 


So I lose none 


In seeking to augment it, but still keep 
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, 
I shall be counseled.—II. i. 20-9. 



INTRODUCTION 


51 


Yet, Banquo is not without his weakness. Ruin comes upon 
him through his carelessness and irresolution. He suspects Mac¬ 
beth but does nothing in self-defense. He wilfully shuts his 
eyes to the enormity of Macbeth’s crime against Duncan, and 
superstitiously accepts the murder as inevitable^. taking com¬ 
fort from the thought that, 

it was said 

It should not stand in thy posterity, 

But that myself should be the root and father 
Of many kings.—III. i. 3. 

j Thus by his inactivity and supineness he helps to bring about his 
j own doom. 

Macduff 

Macduff acts an insignificant part in the earlier scenes of the 
play. No sooner is Banquo murdered, however, than Macduff 
comes into prominence, and exercises an important influence in 
shaping the course of events. 

He is hated and feared by Macbeth, who feels conscious of his 
moral superiority. When Macbeth slays Duncan’s chamberlains, 
Macduff sternly asks him, “Wherefore did you so?” and he 
shows no sympathy with the murderer. Although he possesses 
none of the secret information which Banquo holds, he has long 
regarded Macbeth with suspicion. When Macbeth goes to Scone 
Macduff expresses his fears, “Lest our old robes sit easier than 
our new! ’ ’ 

Unlike Banquo, who keeps his suspicions to himself, and is 
content to await events, Macduff, by his “broad words,” and 
irreconcilable demeanor, brings upon himself the active hostility 
of the tyrant. He offends the usurper by refusing to attend 
the banquet; then, scenting danger, not only to himself but to 
his country, he flees to England for assistance. In contrast to 
Banquo he is intensely loyal and patriotic. He leaves his castle 
and his wife and children at the mercy of his enemies, that he 






52 


MACBETH 


may stir Malcolm to stand and defend his ‘‘down-fallen birth- 
dom.” His patriotism shines through all his speeches; the sor¬ 
rowful accents in which the words, “O' Scotland, Scotland! ’ ’ 
are uttered cannot fail to convince the most distrustful. Such 
sincerity wins even the suspicious Malcolm, who at last places 
himself unreservedly in his hands. Macduff is a man of few 
words, and in this respect is a contrast to Macbeth. When the 
other leaders discuss their fears and their hopes, Macduff remains 
silent, or interposes only to end the discussion and urge caution, 

Let our just censures 
Attend the true event, and put we on 
Industrious soldiership.—V. iv. 14. 

When he meets Macbeth upon the field of battle he wastes no 
time in violent abuse or empty threats— 

I have no words: 

My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain 
Than terms can give thee out.—V. viii. 6. 

“So noble, so blameless, so clement, we should think Macduff 
entirely wanting in that goad of sharp ambition necessary to 
make him a victorious opponent of Macbeth, and to enable him 
to stand his ground against that mighty and infuriated man; 
the poet, therefore, by the horrible extermination of his family, 
divests him of the milk of human kindness, and makes him by 
this means at once fitted to be the conqueror of Macbeth. This 
is wonderfully shown by a couple of strokes in that scene 
between Macduff and Malcolm. When he hears the dreadful 
news, he silently draws his hat over his brows and conceals his 
sorrow. ‘My children, too? My wife killed, too?’ are his only 
words, and then the self-reproach: ‘ And I must be from thence ?’ 
Malcolm bids him seek comfort in revenge. He heeds him not. 

‘ He has no children! * . . . The most famous actors of Macduff 
in Garrick’s time, Wilks and Ryan, saw in these words only the 
deepest expression of paternal agony, out of which Macduff arises 



INTRODUCTION 


53 


only by degrees to composure and the desire for revenge. Noth¬ 
ing can be plainer than this. . . . Malcolm reminds him once 
more to make this ‘ the whetstone of his sword. ’ And even now 
Macduff feels himself only divided between his fatherly feelings 
and his desire for vengeance; he could play the woman with his 
eyes, and braggart with his tongue. And now at length he yields 
to the thirst for revenge, which longs for action with the impa¬ 
tience of Macbeth, and is not to be appeased with words and 
delays. * ’— Gervinus* 

Malcolm 

The character of Malcolm presents no difficulty to the 
student of the drama. His distinguishing characteristic is cau¬ 
tion, and in this respect he is a contrast to almost all the other 
personages in the play. He is as suspicious as his father, Duncan, 
was trusting. On Duncan’s assassination he flees to England to 
avoid Macbeth’s “murderous shaft,” which he feels is aimed at 
him. He distrusts the ‘ ‘ good Macduff, ’ ’ and is slow to accept his 
protestations of patriotism and loyalty. As king, he possesses 
many royal graces, and therein forms a contrast to the tyrant 
Macbeth. Himself the son of a “most sainted king” and a 
saintly mother, and favored during his stay in England by the 
constant society of the pious Edward, he seems to have imbibed 
a religious spirit differing much from the superstition and sense 
of security which distinguish several of the other characters. He 
thus describes himself: 

Scarcely have coveted what was mine own, 

At no time broke my faith, would not betray 
The devil to his fellow, and delight 
No less in truth than life:—IY. iii. 119. 

The rough experiences through which he passes develop his 
character, and his assumption of the crown opens a new era of 
prosperity and civilization for Scotland. 


* See footnote, p. 24. 




54 


MACBETH 


The Witches 

The Witches can hardly be said to possess individual charac¬ 
ters any more than they possess distinctive names. They may 
be regarded as sexless, for Banquo says to them, 

You should be women, 

And yet your beards forbid me to interpret 
That you are so—I. iii. 45. 

They may be looked upon as the incarnation of all wickedness 
and all temptation, not only that which comes from without, but 
more particularly that which proceeds from within one’s own 
heart. Their powers, their characteristics, and the influence they 
exert upon the destinies of “human mortals” have been referred 
to earlier in the Introduction, and need no further discussion. 

XIV. THE TRUE ACCOUNT OF THE MACBETH PERIOD OF 
SCOTTISH HISTORY 

The fact that the chronicle of Holinshed departs in many 
important respects from historic truth has been well established. 
It is not, however, easy, with the materials at hand, to arrive 
at anything like a complete and connected account of the history 
of the Macbeth period; but the following brief outline, derived 
from authentic sources, may, so far as it goes, be considered to 
represent fact as opposed to fiction. 

Malcolm II was succeeded in 1034 by his grandson Duncan, 
who reigned till 1040, and who married a daughter of the North¬ 
umbrian Earl, Siward. After marching south and making an 
unsuccessful attempt upon Durham, Duncan was compelled to 
return to Scotland to resist the invasion of his kinsman, Thorfinn, 
who at that time held the Orkneys, Caithness, Sutherland, and 
the Hebrides. Duncan was defeated by Thorfinn on the Pent- 
land Firth, and was killed at Bothgownan, near Elgin, by his 
own general, Macbeth. 




INTRODUCTION 


55 


Macbeth was the son of Finlay, mormaer (or earl) of Moray, 
whose wife, Gruoch, was the granddaughter of Kenneth II, the 
father of Malcolm II. Thus Macbeth had some title to the sov¬ 
ereignty, if it could descend by females. Macbeth reigned for 
seventeen years, from 1040 to 1057. He seems to have been an 
able and a popular monarch; he successfully repelled the attacks 
of Siward on behalf of his grandson. He fell in the battle of 
Lumphanan, in Mar, fighting against the young Malcolm, aided 
by Tostig, the son of Earl Godwine. Macbeth was succeeded on 
the throne by Lulach, a former mormaer of Moray, -who, how¬ 
ever, reigned for only a few months, and was slain at Essie in 
Strathbagie (N.W. Aberdeen). He was succeeded by Malcolm 
Cammore (1058-93), who had spent his youth at the court of 
Edward the Confessor. 

These few facts are all that can be regarded as historical. 
The rest of Holinshed’s account is fiction. 

Nothing ia,known of the rebellious Thane of Cawdor; nor 
was there in Duncan’s reign any invasion by Sweno. The name 
of Banquo does not appear in any authentic records, nor is that 
of Fleance to be found among the ancestry of James I. Macbeth, 
so far from being defeated by ‘‘Old Siward, with ten thousand 
warlike men,” had been successful in driving the Northumbrian 
Earl out of his kingdom, and outlived him. Nothing is known of 
the manner of Lady Macbeth’s death or of the existence of Lady 
Macduff. 

XV. ABSTRACT OP THE PLAY 

(Abbreviated from Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare) 

Act I, Scene ii. When Duncan the Meek reigned king of 
Scotland there lived a great thane, or lord, called Macbeth. This 
Macbeth was a near kinsman to the king, and was held in great 
esteem at court for his valor and conduct in the wars, an 
example of which he had lately given, in defeating a rebel 
army assisted by the troops of Norway in terrible numbers. 



56 


MACBETH 


Act I, Scene iii. The two Scottish generals, Macbeth and 
Banquo, returned victorious from this great battle. Their way¬ 
lay over a blasted heath, where they were stopped by the strange 
appearance of three figures, like women, except that they had 
beards and their withered skins and wild attire made them look 
not like any earthly creatures. Banquo first addressed them, 
when they, seemingly offended, laid each her choppy finger upon 
her skinny lips, in token of silence; then the first saluted Macbeth 
with the title “Thane of Glamis;” and the second called him 
1 ‘ Thane of Cawdor,’ ’ and the third cried out ‘ ‘ All hail! king that 
shall be hereafter!” Such a prophetic greeting not a little 
amazed him, for he knew that while the king’s sons lived he could 
not hope to succeed to the throne. Then turning to Banquo they 
pronounced him, in riddling terms, to be lesser than Macbeth 
and greater! not so happy, but much happier! and prophesied 
that though he should never reign, yet his sons after him should 
be kings in Scotland. They then vanished. 

While they stood pondering on the strangeness of this adven¬ 
ture, there arrived certain messengers from the king who were 
empowered to confer upon Macbeth the dignity of Thane of 
Cawdor. An event so mysteriously corresponding with the 
prediction of the witches astonished Macbeth, and he stood rapt 
in amazement, unable to make reply to the messengers: then 
swelling hopes arose in his mind that the prediction of the third 
witch might in like manner have its accomplishment, and that 
he should one day reign king in Scotland. Turning to Banquo, 
he said, “Do you not hope that your children shall be kings, 
when what the witches promised to me has so wonderfully come 
to pass?” “That hope,” answered the general, “might induce 
you to aim at the throne: but oftentimes these ministers of 
darkness tell us truths in little things to betray us into deeds of 
greatest consequence.” But the wicked suggestions of the 
witches had sunk too deep into the mind of Macbeth to allow 
him to attend to the warnings of the good Banquo. From that 





INTRODUCTION 


57 


time he bent all his thoughts how to compass the throne of 
Scotland. 

Act I, Scene v. Macbeth communicated to his wife the strange 
prediction of the weird sisters. She was a bad, ambitious woman, 
and cared not by what means she and her husband could arrive 
at greatness. 

Act I, Scenes v, vi, and vii. She spurred on the reluctant 
purpose of Macbeth to murder the king, and she did not cease to 
represent his murder as a step absolutely necessary to the ful¬ 
filment of the flattering prophecy. 

It happened at this time that the king came to Macbeth’s 
house attended by his two sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, and 
a numerous train of thanes and attendants, the more to honor 
Macbeth for the triumphal success of his wars. The king 
entered the castle, well pleased with the place, and not less 
so with the attentions and respect of his honored hostess, Lady 
Macbeth, who had the art of covering treacherous purposes 
with smiles, and of looking like the innocent flower while she 
was indeed the serpent under it. The king, being tired with his 
journey, went early to bed, and in his stateroom two grooms of 
his chamber (as was the custom) slept beside him. He had been 
unusually pleased with his reception, and had made presents, 
before he retired, to his principal officers, and had sent a rich 
diamond to Lady Macbeth, greeting her by the name of his most 
kind hostess. 

Act II, Scenes i and ii. Now was the middle of the night, 
when over half the world nature seems dead, and wicked dreams 
abuse men’s minds asleep, and none but the w'olf and the mur¬ 
derer is abroad. This was the time when Lady Macbeth waked 
to plot the murder of the king. She would not have undertaken 
a deed so abhorrent to her sex but that she feared her husband’s 
nature, that it was too full of the milk of human kindness to do 
a contrived murder. She knew him to be ambitious, but she 
doubted his resolution. So with her own hands, armed with a 




58 


MACBETH 


dagger, she approached the king’s bed, having taken care to ply 
the grooms of his chamber so with wine that they slept intoxi¬ 
cated and careless of their charge. There lay Duncan, in a 
sound sleep after the fatigues of his journey, and as she viewed 
him earnestly, there was something in his face, which so much 
resembled her own father, that she had not the courage to 
proceed. 

She returned to confer with her husband, whose resolution 
had begun to stagger. She found him in a conflict of mind 
inclining to the better part, and resolving to proceed no further. 
But she, being a woman not easily shaken from her evil purpose, 
began to pour in at his ears words which infused a portion of her 
own spirit into his mind, assigning reason upon reason why he 
should not shrink from what he had undertaken; how easy the 
deed was; how soon it would be over; and how the action of one 
short night would give to all their nights and days to come 
sovereign sway and royalty! Then she threw contempt on 
his change of purpose, and accused him of fickleness and cow¬ 
ardice. Then she added how practicable it was to lay the guilt 
of the deed upon the drunken, sleepy grooms. And with the 
valor of her tongue she so chastised his sluggish resolutions, that 
he once more summoned up courage to the bloody business. 

So, taking the dagger in his hand, he softly stole in the dark 
to the room where Duncan lay; and as he went, he thought he 
saw another dagger in the air, with the handle towards him, and 
on the blade and at the point of it drops of blood; but when he 
tried to grasp at it, it was nothing but air, a mere phantasm pro¬ 
ceeding from his own hot and oppressed brain and the business 
he had in hand. Getting rid of this fear, he entered the king’s 
room, and dispatched him with one stroke of his dagger. 

With his mind full of horrible imaginations, Macbeth re¬ 
turned to his listening wife, who began to think he had failed of 
his purpose, and that the deed was somehow frustrated. He 
came in so distracted a state that she reproached him with his 



INTRODUCTION 


59 


want of firmness, and sent him to wash his hands of the blood 
which stained them, while she took his dagger, with purpose to 
stain the cheeks of the grooms with blood, to make it seem their 
guilt. 

Act II, Scene iii. Morning came, and with it the discovery 
of the murder, which could not be concealed; and though Mac¬ 
beth and his lady made great show of grief, and the proofs 
against the grooms were strong, yet the entire suspicion fell 
upon Macbeth, whose inducements to such a deed were so much 
more forcible than such poor, silly grooms could be supposed to 
have; and Duncan’s two sons fled. Malcolm, the eldest, sought 
refuge in the English court; and the youngest, Donalbain, made 
his escape to Ireland. 

Act II, Scene iv. The king’s sons, who should have suc¬ 
ceeded him, having thus vacated the throne, Macbeth as next heir 
was crowned king, and thus the prediction of the weird sisters 
was literally accomplished. 

Act III, Scenes i, ii, and iii. Though placed so high, Mac¬ 
beth could not forget the prophecy of the weird sisters, that, 
though he should be king, yet not his children, but the children 
of Banquo, should be kings after him. The thought of this, and 
that he had defiled his hands with blood, and done so great 
crimes, only to place the posterity of Banquo upon the throne, 
so rankled within him that he determined to put to death both 
Banquo and his son, to make void the predictions of the weird 
sisters, which in his own case had been so remarkably brought 
to pass. For this purpose he made a great supper, to which he 
invited all the chief thanes, among them being Banquo and his 
son Fleance. The way by which Banquo was to pass to the 
palace at night was beset by murderers appointed by Macbeth. 
They stabbed Banquo, but in the scuffle Fleance escaped. 

Act III, Scene iv. At supper the queen played the hostess 
with a gracefulness and attention which conciliated every one 
present, and Macbeth discoursed freely with his thanes and 




60 


MACBETH 


nobles, saying that all that was honorable in the country was 
under his roof if he had but his good friend Banquo present, 
whom yet he hoped he should rather have to chide for neglect 
than to lament for any mischance. Just at these words the ghost 
of Banquo entered the room and placed himself on the chair 
which Macbeth was about to occupy. Though Macbeth was a 
bold man, at this horrible sight his cheeks turned white with 
fear, and he stood quite unmanned, with his eyes fixed upon the 
ghost. His queen and all the nobles, who saw nothing, but per¬ 
ceived him gazing (as they thought) upon an empty chair, took 
it for a fit of distraction; and she reproached him, whispering 
that it was but the same fancy which had made him see the dag¬ 
ger in the air when he was about to kill Duncan. But Macbeth 
continued to see the ghost, and gave no heed to all they could 
say, while he addressed it with distracted words, yet so signifi¬ 
cant that his queen, fearing the dreadful secret would be’ dis¬ 
closed, in great haste dismissed the guests, excusing the infirmity 
of Macbeth as a disorder he was often troubled with. 

To such dreadful fancies Macbeth was subject, and being 
troubled at the escape of Fleance, he determined once more to 
seek out the weird sisters and know from them the worst. 

Act IY, Scene i. He sought them in a cave upon the heath, 
where they, who knew by foresight of his coming, were engaged 
in preparing their dreadful charms, horrid ingredients, by means 
of which they conjured up infernal spirits to reveal to them 
futurity. 

It was demanded of Macbeth whether he would have his 
doubts resolved by them or by their masters, the spirits. He, 
nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which he saw, 
boldly answered, Where are they? let me see them.” And 
they called the spirits, which were three. And the first arose in 
the likeness of an armed head, and he called Macbeth by name, 
and bid him beware of the Thane of Fife, for which caution 
Macbeth thanked him, for Macbeth had entertained a jealousy 




INTRODUCTION 


61 


of Macduff, the Thane of Fife. And the second spirit arose in 
the likeness of a bloody child, and he called Macbeth by name, 
and bid him have no fear, but laugh to scorn the power of man, 
for none of woman born should have power to hurt him: and he 
advised him to be bloody, bold, and resolute. “Then live, Mac¬ 
duff!” cried the king; “what need I fear of thee? but yet I will 
make assurance doubly sure. Thou shalt not live; that I may 
tell pale-hearted Fear it lies, and sleep in spite of thunder.” 
That spirit being dismissed, a third arose, in the form of a child 
crowned, with a tree in his hand. He called Macbeth by name, 
and comforted him against conspiracies, saying that he should 
never be vanquished until the wood of Bimam to Dunsinane 
Hill should come against him. ‘ ‘ Sweet bodements! good! ’’ cried 
Macbeth; 1 ‘ who can unfix the forest and move it from its earth- 
bound roots? I see I shall live the usual period of man’s life, 
and not be cut off by a violent death. But my heart throbs to 
know one thing. Tell me, if your art can tell so much, if 
Banquo’s issue shall ever reign in this kingdom?” Here the 
cauldron sunk into the ground, and a noise of music was heard, 
and eight shadows, like kings, passed by Macbeth, and Banquo 
last, who bore a glass which showed the figures of many more; 
and Banquo, all bloody, smiled upon Macbeth, and pointed to 
them, by which Macbeth knew that these were the posterity of 
Banquo, who should reign after him in Scotland; and the 
witches, with a sound of soft music, and with dancing, making 
a show of duty and welcome to Macbeth, vanished. And 
from this time the thoughts of Macbeth were all bloody and 
dreadful. 

The first thing he heard when he got out of the witches’ cave 
was that Macduff had fled to England. 

Act IV, Scene ii. Stung with rage, he set upon his castle 
and put Macduff’s wife and children, whom the thane had left 
behind, to the sword, and extended the slaughter to all who 
claimed the least relationship to Macduff. 



62 


MACBETH 


Act IV, Scene iii. These and such like deeds alienated the 
minds of all his chief nobility from him. 

Act V, Scenes i and iv. Such as could, fled to join with Mal¬ 
colm and Macduff, who were now approaching with a powerful 
army which they had raised in England; and the rest secretly 
wished success to their arms, though for fear of Macbeth they 
could take no active part. His recruits went on slowly. Every¬ 
body hated the tyrant; nobody loved or honored him, but all 
suspected him, and he began to envy the condition of Duncan, 
whom he had murdered, who slept soundly in his grave, against 
whom treason had done its worst: neither steel nor poison, 
domestic malice nor foreign levies, could hurt him any longer. 

Act V, Scene v. While these things were acting, the queen, 
who had been the sole partner in his wickedness, in whose bosom 
he could sometimes seek a momentary repose from those terrible 
dreams which afflicted them both nightly, died, it is supposed by 
her own hands, unable to bear the remorse of guilt and public 
hate; by which event he was left alone, without a soul to love or 
care for him, or a friend to whom he could confide his wicked 
purposes. 

He grew careless of life, and wished for death; but the near 
approach of Malcolm’s army roused in him what remained of 
his ancient courage, and he determined to die (as he expressed 
it) “with armor on his back.” Besides this, the hollow promises 
of the witches had filled him with false confidence, and he 
remembered the sayings of the spirits, that none of woman born 
was to hurt him, and that he was never to be vanquished till 
Birnam Wood should come to Dunsinane, which he thought could 
never be. Se he shut himself up in his castle, whose impreg¬ 
nable strength was such as defied a siege. Here he sullenly 
awaited the approach of Malcolm. When, upon a day, there 
came a messenger to him, pale and shaking with fear, almost 
unable to report that which he had seen; for he averred that as 
he stood upon his watch on the hill, he looked towards Birnam, 



INTRODUCTION 


63 


and to his thinking the wood began to move! Macbeth now 
began to faint in resolution and to doubt the equivocal speeches 
of the spirits. ‘ ‘ However, ’’ said he, 4 ‘ if this which he avouches 
be true, let us arm and out. There is no flying hence, nor stay¬ 
ing here. I begin to be weary of the sun, and wish my life at 
an end.” With these desperate speeches he sallied forth upon 
the besiegers, who had now come up to the castle. 

Act V, Scenes iv and vi. The strange appearance, which had 
given the messenger an idea of a w^ood moving, is easily solved. 
When the besieging army marched through the wood of Birnam, 
Malcolm, like a skilful general, instructed his soldiers to hew 
down every one a bough and bear it before him, by way of con¬ 
cealing the true numbers of his host! Thus were the words of 
the spirit brought to pass in a sense different from that in which 
Macbeth had understood them, and one great hold of his confi¬ 
dence was gone. 

Act Y, Scene vii. And now a severe skirmishing took place 
in which Macbeth, though feebly supported, yet fought with the 
extreme of rage and valor, cutting to pieces all who were opposed 
to him, till he came to where Macduff was fighting. 

Act Y, Scene viii. Seeing Macduff, and remembering the 
caution of the spirit who had counseled him to avoid Macduff 
above all men, he would have turned, but Macduff who had been 
seeking him through the whole fight opposed his turning, and a 
fierce contest ensued. Then Macbeth remembered the words of 
the spirit, how none of woman born should hurt him; and smil¬ 
ing confidently, he said to Macduff: “Thou losest thy labor, 
Macduff. As easily thou mayest impress the air with thy sword 
as make me vulnerable. I bear a charmed life which must not 
yield to one of woman born.” “Despair thy charm,” said Mac¬ 
duff, “and let that lying spirit whom thou hast served tell thee 
that Macduff was never born of woman, never as the ordinary 
manner of men is to be born, but was untimely taken from his 
mother.” “Accursed be the tongue which tells me so,” said the 



64 


MACBETH 


trembling Macbeth, who felt his last hold of confidence give way; 
“and let never man in future believe the lying equivocations of 
witches and juggling spirits who deceive us in words which have 
double senses; and while they keep their promise literally, disap¬ 
point our hopes with a different meaning. I will not fight with 
thee.” 

“Then, live!” said Macduff; “we will have a show of thee as 
men show monsters, and a painted board on which shall be writ¬ 
ten, ‘Here men may see the tyrant!’ ” “Never,” said Macbeth, 
whose courage returned with despair; “ I will not live to kiss the 
ground before young Malcolm’s feet, and to be baited with the 
curses of the rabble. Though Birnam Wood be come to Dun- 
sinane, and thou opposed to me who wast never born of woman, 
yet I will try the last.”^ With these frantic words he threw him¬ 
self upon Macduff who, after a severe struggle, in the end over¬ 
came him, and, cutting off his head, made a present of it to the 
young and lawful king, Malcolm, who took upon him the gov¬ 
ernment which, by the machinations of the usurper, he had so 
long been deprived of, and ascended the throne of Duncan the 
Meek amid the acclamations of the nobles and the people.” 

XVI. TIME OF ACTION OF THE PLAY 

The length of time supposed to be covered by the events of 


the play is nine days, with intervals. 

Day 1. Act I. Scenes i.-iii. Day 3. Act II. 

Scenes i.-iv. 

Day 2. 

Day 4. 

Day 5. 

Act I. 

Act III. 

Act III. 

Act IV. 

Scenes iv.-vii. 

Interval of a week or two. 

Scenes i.-v. 

Scene vi. “An impossible time.” 

Scene i. Day 6. Act IV. 

Scene ii. 

Day 7. 

Act IV. 

Interval of a week or two. 

Scene iii. Act V. 

Scene i. 

Day 8. 

Act V. 

Interval of a few weeks. 

Scenes ii.-iii. Day 9. Act. V. 

Scenes iv.-viii. 



INTRODUCTION 


65 


Thus the time over which the events of the play extend is 
about two months. The intervals, however, in the computation 
given above, seem to be much too short. Macbeth, V, iii. 21, says: 


My way of life 

la fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf, 


implying that he has already reached old age. At the opening 
of the play he appears to be in the prime of life, and though he 
may have aged rapidly, yet we ought to regard the events of the 
play as extending over some years rather than a few months. 
Shakespeare’s wonderful art, however, has made the events 
recorded in the play appear to succeed one another with such 
rapidity, that we neglect to take into account the intervals which 
necessity demands for their ripening. 



i 





MACBETH 


Sramatta iPrrsmta*. 


Duncan, King of Scotland. 
Malcolm, ) Tr . a 
Donalbain, J Hls Sons - 
Macbeth, ) Generals of the 
Banquo, j King’s Army. 
Macduff, \ 

Lennox, ) 

Ross, ( Noblemen of Scot- 
Menteith, l land. 

Angus, i 
Caithness, / 

Fleance, Son to Banquo. 

Si ward, Earl of Northumberland, 
General of the English Forces. 
Young Si ward, his Son. 

Seyton, an Officer attending on 
Macbeth. 

Scene: 


Boy, son to Macduff. 

An English Doctor. 

A Scotch Doctor. 

A Soldier. 

A Porter. 

An Old Man. 

Lady Macbeth. 

Lady Macduff. 

Gentlewoman attending on Lady 
Macbeth. 

Hecate, three Witches. 

Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Sol¬ 
diers, Murderers, Attendants, 
and Messengers. 

The Ghost of Banquo and other 
Apparitions. 


Scotland; in the end of the Fourth Act, in England. 


ACT I. 

Scene I. A Desert Place. 

Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches. 

1 Witch. When shall we three meet again 
In thunder, lightning, or in rain? 

2 Witch. When the hurlyburly’s 1 done, 

When the battle’s lost and won. 

3 Witch. That will be ere the set of sun. 

1 Witch. Where the place? 

2 Witch. Upon the heath. 

3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth. 


1 noise and con¬ 
fusion of 
battle 


67 





68 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


1 Witch. I come, Graymalkin! 1 
AIL Paddock 2 calls:— Anon \— 3 
All. Fair is foul, and foul is fair:* 
Hover 4 through the fog and filthy air. 


[Exeunt. 


10 


1 the name of 
a cat 

2 lhe name of a 
toad 

3 immediately 
Het us hover 


Scene II. A Camp near Forres. 


Alarum 6 within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, 
Donalbain, Lennox, with Attendants , meeting 
a bleeding Sergeant. 

Dun . What bloody man is that? He can report, 
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt 
The newest state. 6 

Mai. This is the sergeant 

Who, like a good and hardy 7 soldier fought 
’Gainst my captivity. Hail 6 brave friend! 

Say to the king the knowledge of the broil 9 
As thou didst leave it. 

Ser. Doubtful it stood; 

As two spent 10 swimmers that do cling together 
And choke their art . 11 The merciless Macdonwald— 
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that 12 10 

The multiplying villanies of nature 
Do swarm upon himf—from the Western Isles 13 
Of kerns li and gallowglasses 16 is supplied; 

But all’s too weak: 

For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name— 
Disdaining fortune 16 with his brandish’d steel, 
Which smoked with bloody execution, 

Like valour’s minion 11 carved out his passage 
Till he 16 faced the slave; 

Which ne’er shook hands,J nor bade farewell to 
him 19 20 

Till he unseam’d him from the nave 20 to the chaps, 
And fix’d his head upon our battlements. 


5 a call to arms 


6 i.e. he can give 
.the latest 
news 
1 valiant 
8 a dissyllable 
9 battle 
10 exhausted 
11 render their 
skill useless 
u that end; i. e. 

to be a rebel 
13 i.e. of Scot¬ 
land 

u light-armed 

troops 

16 heavy-armed 
troops r 


16 disregarding 
the rebel' 
apparent 
success 
17 favorite , 
darling 

18 Macbeth 

19 Macdon¬ 

wald 

20 navel 


*What is fair to others is foul to us, and what we find fair is foul in the 
eyes of others, l.e. We love what others hate and hate what they love. 
fNature has crowded within him innumerable qualities of wickedness. 
JWho did not shake hands with death, i.e. did not die. 





Scene II] 


MACBETH 


69 


Dun. O valiant cousin! 1 worthy gentleman! 

Ser. As whence the sun ’gins his reflection 
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, 

So from that spring whence comfort seem’d to come 
Discomfort swells.* Mark, King of Scotland, mark: 
No sooner justice had, with valour arm’d, 

Compell’d these skipping kerns to trust their heels, 
But the Norweyan lord , 2 surveying vantage , 8 30 

With furbish’d* arms and new supplies of men, 
Began a fresh assault. 

Dun. Dismay’d not this 

Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? 

Ser. Yes; 

As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. 

If I say sooth , 5 1 must report they were 
As cannons 6 overcharged with double cracks;'' so they 
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: 

Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, 

Or memorize 8 another Golgotha, 

I cannot tell— 40 

But I am faint; my gashes cry for help. 

Dun. So well thy words become thee as thy 
wounds; 

They smack of honour bo th. Go, get him surgeons. 

[Exit Sergeant, attended. 
Enter Ross. 


l see note I. ii. 
23, p. 151 


H.eSweno. See 
I. ii. 58 
heeing an 
opening 
burnished, 
unstained 
by use 
Hruth 

5 an anachro¬ 
nism 

'filled with 
charges 
powerful 
enough to 
give a 
doubly loud 
report 
8 make the 
place mem¬ 
orable as 


Who comes here? 

Mai. The worthy thane 9 of Ross. 

Len. What a haste looks through his eyes! So 
should he look 


9 a title, almost 
equal to that 
of Earl 


That seems 10 to speak things strange. 

Ross. God save the king! 

Dun. Whence earnest thou, worthy thane? 
Ross. From Fife, great king; 

Where the Norweyan banners flout 11 the sky 
And fan our people cold.f Norway 12 himself 


10 seems about 


11 mock 

l2 the King of 
Norway 


*4s terrible storms often originate in the east, the quarter from which 
the (comforting) sun begins his course, so now trouble arises in that very 
quarter to which Macbeth’s victory had seemed to bring comfort. 

tWhere the Norwegian banners flap gaily in the wind and serve only 
to cool the victors. 






70 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


With terrible numbers, 50 

Assisted by that most disloyal traitor 

The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal 1 conflict; 

Till that Bellona’s 2 bridegroom, lapp’d in proof * 
Confronted him with self-comparisons, 

Point against point rebellious, arm ’gainst arm, 
Curbing his lavish spirit:* and, to conclude, 

The victory fell on us. 

Dun. Great happiness! 

Ross. That 4 now 

Sweno, the Norway’s king, craves composition ; 5 
Nor would we deign him burial of his men 
Till he disbursed, at Saint Colme’s Inch 6 60 

Ten thousand dollars 7 to our general use. 

Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall de¬ 
ceive 

Our bosom interest : 8 go pronounce his present 9 
death, 

And with his former title greet Macbeth. 

Ross. I ’ll see it done. 

Dun. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath 
won. [ Exeunt . 


l an ill-boding 
2 Roman 
goddess of 
war 

z clad in proof 
armor 


*so that 
b humbly begs 
terms of 
settlement 
or peace 
Hnchcolm, an 
island off 
the coast of 
Fife 

7 an anachro¬ 
nism 

Hhe interests 
we have 
most at 
heart 

9 immediate 


Scene III. A Heath, near Forres. 
Thunder. Enter the three Witches. 

1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister? 

2 Witch. Killing swine. 

8 Witch. Sister, where thou? 

1 Witch. A sailor’s wife had chestnuts in her 
lap, 

And munch’d, and munch’d, and munch’d. 

‘Give me,’ quoth I: 

‘Aroint thee, 10 witch! ’ the rump-fed ronyon 11 
cries. 

Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ the 
Tiger: 12 


10 stand off 
u pampered, 
scurvy 
creature 

12 the name of a 
vessel 


♦Encountered him in a hand-to-hand trial of strength, his own sword 
against the rebel’s sword, checking his insolent spirit. 





Scene III] 


MACBETH 


71 


But in a sieve I ’ll thither sail, 

And, like 1 a rat without a tail, 

I ’ll do, I ’ll do, and I ’ll do. 2 10 

2 Witch. I ’ll give thee a wind. 

1 Witch. Thou’rt kind. 

8 Witch. And I another. 

1 Witch. I myself have all the other; 

And the very ports they blow, 

AH the quarters that they know 
I ’ the shiyman’s card, 2 
I will drain him dry as hay:* 

Sleep shall neither night nor day 

Hang upon his pent-house lid;* 20 

He shall live a man forbid ; 5 

Weary se’nnights, nine times nine 8 

Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine. 1 

Though his bark cannot be lost, 

Yet it shall be tempest-tost. 

Look what I have. 

2 Witch. Show me, show me. 

1 Witch. Here I have a pilot’s thumb, 

Wreck’d as homeward he did come. 

[Drum within. 

3 Witch. A drum, a drum! 30 

Macbeth doth come. 

All. The weird 8 sisters, hand in hand, 

Posters of 9 the sea and land, 

Thus do go about, about: 

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, 

And thrice again, to make up nine. 


Hn the form of 
2 i.e. I'll 1 ‘do 
for" the 
ship, gnaw 
a hole in it 


3 compass card 


*lids that over¬ 
hang the eye 
(like the 
roof of a 
pent-house) 
h under a ban or 
curse 

8 7 and 3, and 9 
as the 
square of 3, 
are mystic 
numbers 
7 grow lean and 
waste away 


8 unearthly or 
fateful. See 
Glossary 
9 rapid travel¬ 
ers over 


Peace! the charm’s wound up. 


Enter Macbeth and Banquo. 

Mach. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. 
Ban. How far is’t call’d to Forres? What 
are these, 

So wither’d, and so wild in their attire, 40 

That look not like the inhabitants o’ the earth, 


*1. e. drain the blood from his body till he becomes all flesh and bone. 







72 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


And yet are on ’t? Live you? or are you aught 
That man may question? You seem to under¬ 
stand me, 

By each at once her choppy 1 finger laying 
Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, 

And yet your beards 2 forbid me to interpret 
That you are so. 

Mach. Speak, if you can: what are 

you? 

1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, 

thane of Glamis! 

2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, 

thane of Cawdor! 

8 Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be 
king hereafter! 50 

Ban. Good sir, why do you start, and seem 
to fear 

Things that do sound so fair? I ’ the name of 
truth, 

Are ye fantastical, 3 or that indeed 
Which outwardly ye show? 4 My noble partner 
You greet with present grace, and great prediction 
Of noble having and of royal hope,* 

That 5 he seems rapt 6 withal: to me you speak 
not. 

If you can look into the seeds of time, 

And say which grain will grow and which will 
not, 

Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear 60 

Your favours nor your hate. 1 

1 Witch. Hail! 

2 Witch. Hail! 

3 Witch. Hail! 

1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 

2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. 

8 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou 

be none: 


1 chapped 

2 see Intro¬ 
duction, p. 35 


3 creatures of 
the fancy 
or imagina¬ 
tion 

4 appear to be 

5 so that 

6 carried beyond 
himself, 
transported 


1 beg your 
favors nor 
fear your 
hate 


*You greet by naming the honorable title which he already bears (“present 
grace”) and by predicting for him a more noble possession (“great prediction 
of noble having”) and even presenting a prospect which may lead him to 
hope for royalty (“prediction of royal hope’j. 





Scene III] 


MACBETH 


73 


So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! 

1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! 

Macb. Stay, 1 you imperfect speakers , 2 tell me 
more: 70 

By Sinel’s 3 death I know I am thane of Glamis; 
But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, 

A prosperous gentleman;* and to be king 
Stands not within the prospect of belief, 

No A more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence 
You owe 3 this strange intelligence? or why 
Upon this blasted ! 6 heath you stop our way 
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge 

y°u. [ Witches vanish. 

Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, 
And these are of them. Whither are they 

vanish’d? 80 

Mach. Into the air, and what seem’d corporal 1 
melted 

As breath into the wind. Would they had 
stay’d! 

Ban. Were such things here as we do speak 
about? 

Or have we eaten on the insane root 8 
That takes the reason prisonerf 9 

Macb. Your children shall be kings. 

Ban. You shall be king. 

Mach. And thane of Cawdor too, went it not 
so? 

Ban. To the selfsame tune and words. Who’s 
here? 


Enter Ross and Angus. 

Ross. The king hath happily received, Mac¬ 
beth, 

The news of thy success; and when he reads 90 
Thy personal venture 10 in the rebel’s fight, 

His wonders and his praises do contend 


l not so fast 
2 who speak 
only a part 
of what you 
mean 
3 Macbeth’s 
father 

*any 
6 possess 
6 withered , 
blighted 


7 corporeal , 
substantial 


hoot causing 
madness , 
henbane or 
hemlock 
9 renders the 
reason use¬ 
less or 
inoperative 


10 the venture of 
thy person 


*See Note, I. iii. 72, p. 152. 






74 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


Which should be thine or his: silenced with that,* 
In viewing o ’er the rest of the selfsame day, 

He finds thee in the stout 1 Norweyan ranks, 
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, 2 
Strange images of death. As thick as hail 
Came post with post; and every one did bear 
Thy praises 3 in his kingdom’s great defence, 

And pour’d them down before him. 

Any. We are sent 100 

To give thee from our royal master thanks; 

Only to herald thee into his sight, 

Not pay thee. 

Ross. And, for an earnest 4 of a greater honour, 
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: 
In which addition , 6 hail, most worthy thane! 

For it is thine. 

Ban. What, can the devil speak true? 

Mach. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do 
you dress me 
In borrow’d robes? 

Ang. Who 6 was the thane lives yet; 1 

But under heavy judgment bears that life 110 
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was 
combined 8 

With those of Norway, 9 or did line 10 the rebel 
With hidden help and vantage, or that with both 11 
He labour’d in 12 his country’s wreck 10 I know 
not; 

But treasons capital, confess’d and proved, 

Have overthrown him. 

Mach. [Aside.] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor: 
The greatest is behind. [To Ross and Angus.] 
Thanks for your pains. 

[To Banquo.] Do you not hope your children 
shall be kings, 


*6 old and reso¬ 
lute 

2 explained in 
the next line 
‘ ‘ strange 
images ,” etc. 

3 praises of thy 
deeds 


Assurance, 

pledge 

6 title 


*he who 
1 still 


8 entered into a 
league 
9 the Nor¬ 
wegians 
10 strengthen 
( internally ) 
11 i,e. both kinds 
of help 
12 toward 
13 ruin 


*The amazement with which he hears of thy great deeds (“his wonders”) 
and the admiration which calls for expression (“his praises”) dispute posses¬ 
sion within him (“do contend which should be thine or his”), and as the one 
feeling neutralizes the other, he is consequently silent. 






Scene III] 


MACBETH 


75 


When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to 

me 120 

Promised no less to them? 

Ban. That, trusted home , 1 

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,* 

Besides the thane of Cawdor. But ’tis strange: 
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, 

The instruments of darkness 2 tell us truths, 

Win us with honest trifles, to betray ’s 
In deepest consequence.! 

Cousins, 3 a word, I pray you. 

Mach. [Aside.] ^Two truths are told, 

As happy prologues to the swelling act 
Of the imperial theme.— [Aloud.] I thank you, 
gentlemen.— 130 

[Amte.] This supernatural soliciting 4 
Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, 

Why hath it given me earnest 5 of success, 
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: 

If good, why do I yield to that suggestion 6 
Whose horrid image 7 doth unfix my hair, 

And make my seated 8 heart knock at my ribs, 

Against the use of nature? Present fears 

Are less than horrible imaginings 

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical , 9 

Shakes so my single state of man, 10 that function 141 

Is smother’d in surmise, and nothing is 

But what is not. IT 

Ban. Look, how our partner ’s rapt. 11 

Mach. [Aside.] If chance will have me king 
why, chance may 12 crown me, 


Ho the utmost 


Hhe agents of 
the devil 

3 addressed to 
Ross and 
Angus 


Hnciting 

6 assurance, 
pledge 
6 temptation 
Hhe dreadful 
thought of 
which 

3 fixed,firmly set 
Hs an imagi¬ 
nary possi¬ 
bility 
l0 manhood 


n engrossed in 
thought 

l2 may possibly 


*If you carry to its natural conclusion your trust in the witches, there 
may yet be kindled within you a hope of obtaining the crown. 

fObtain our confidence by dealing honestly with us in matters of no 
importance in order to deceive us in matters of the highest importance. 

f Actual dangers are less terrifying than the terrors which the imagination 
creates. 

IfThe meaning appears to be: “My power of action and faculty of 
thought (function) are overpowered by the crowd of horrible fancies that 
besets my mind (is smother’d in surmise), so that facts have no reality for me 
who am possessed only by imaginary possibilities.” 










76 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


Without my stir. 1 

Ban. New honours come upon him, 

Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould 2 
But with the aid of use. 

Mach. \Aside.] Come what come may, 
Time and the hour runs 3 through the roughest 
day, 

Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your 
leisure. 

Macb. Give me your favour:* my dull brain 

was wrought 5 150 

With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your 
pains 

Are register’d where 6 every day I turn 
The leaf to read them. Let us toward 7 the king. 
Think upon what hath chanced, and at more 
time, 

The interim having 8 weigh ’d it, let us speak 
Our free hearts 9 each to other. 

Ban. Very gladly. 

Mach. Till then, enough.—Come, friends. 

[Exeunt. 


Hny action on 
my part 

Ho not fit 


3 run 


^indulgence , 
pardon 
6 perplexed 


6 i.e. in my 
memory 
7 sc. go 


8 after having 
meanwhile 
9 hearts freely 


Scene IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace. 

Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donal^ain, 
Lennox, and Attendants. 

Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not 
Those in commission 10 yet return’d? 

Mai. My liege, 

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke 11 
With one that saw him die, who did report 
That very frankly he confess’d his treasons, 
Implored your highness’ pardon, and set forth 12 
A deep repentance: nothing in his life . 

Became him likeib^leaying it; he died 
As one that haabeejj^studied in his death , 13 
To throw away thedearest thing 14 he owed 15 10 
As ’twere a careless 16 trifle. 

Dun. There’s no art 


10 those charged 
with the 
duty of car¬ 
rying it out. 
Cf. I. ii. 63 
n spoken 
12 showed 
13 as one who 
had studied , 
how to die 
14 i.e. his life 
15 possessed 

16 worthless 





Scene IV] 


MACBETH 


77 


To find the mind’s construction 1 in the face: 1 interpret the 

He was a gentleman on whom I built mind 

An absolute trust. 


Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross, and Angus. 

O worthiest cousin! 

The sin of my ingratitude even now 
Was heavy on me: thou art so far before, 

That swiftest wing of recompense is slow 
To overtake thee. Would thcu hadst less de¬ 
served, 

That the proportion both of thanks and payment 
Might have been mine!* only I have left to say 20 
More is thy due than more than all 2 can pay. 

Mach. The service and the loyalty I owe, 

In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part 
Is to receive our duties: and our duties 
Are to your throne and state children and servants; 
Which do but what they should, by doing every¬ 
thing 

Safe toward your 3 love and honour. 

Dun. Welcome hither: 

I have begun to plant thee,f and will labour 
To make thee full o] growing . 4 Noble Banquo, 
That hast no less deserved, nor 6 must be known 30 
No* less to have done so, let me infold thee 
And hold thee to my heart. 

Ban. There if I grow, 

The harvest is your own. 

Dun. My plenteous joys, 

Wanton in fulness* seek to hide themselves 
In drops of sorrow . 7 Sons, kinsmen, thanes, 

And you whose places are the nearest , 8 know, 

We will establish our estate 9 upon 

Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter 


2 i.e. all that I 
can do 


Hhat is sure to 
show you 
baise thee to 
the highest 
possible de¬ 
gree of 
greatness 
5 double nega¬ 
tive 


6 bubbling over 
Hears 

bank nearest 
to ourselves 
Hhe succession 
to the throne 


*That it might have been in my power to thank ajid reward thee in due 
proportion (to thy deserts). 

fA metaphor, equivalent to “I have sown the seeds of thy greatness” 
(by granting thee the title of Thane of Cawdor). The methphor is continued 
in the next line and in 32, 33. 





78 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


TheJPrince of Cumberland: which honour must 
Not unaccompanied invest 1 him only, 40 

But signs of nobleness , 2 like stars, shall shine 
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, 

And bind us further to you. 

Macb. The rest is labour, which is not used 
for you:* 

I ’ll be myself the harbinger 3 and make joyful 
The hearing of my wife with* your approach; 

So, humbly take my leave. 

Dun. My worthy Cawdor! 

Macb. [Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland! 
That is a step 

On which I must fall down, or else o ’erleap, 

For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; 50 
Let not light see my black and deep desires: 

The eye wink at 5 the hand; yet let that be 
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. [Exit. 
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so 
valiant, 

And in his commendations I am fed; 

It is a banquet to me. Let’s after him, 

Whose care 6 is gone before to bid us welcome: 

It 1 is a peerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt. 


Scene V. Inverness. Macbeth’s Castle. 


1 endow 

2 distinguishing 
marks of 
rank 


forerunner 
*with tidings of 


Het the eye 
seem not to 
see 


6 who, in his 
care {for my 
welfare) 

7 he 


Enter Lady Macbeth reading a letter. 


Lady M. “They met me in the day of suc¬ 
cess; and I have learned by the perfectest re¬ 
port; 8 they have more in them than mortal 9 
knowledge. When I burned in desire to question 
them further, they made themselves air, into 
which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in 
the wonder of it, came missives 10 from the king, 
who all-hailed me ‘Thane of Cawdor;’ by which 
title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and 
referred me to the coming on of time, 11 with ‘Hail, 10 


Hestimony 

9 human 


10 messengers 

n carried my 
mind into 
the future 


your service. 


*Repose is weariness to me when it is not devoted to 





MACBETH 


79 


Scene V] 


king that shalt be!’ This have I thought good 
to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, 
that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoic¬ 
ing 1 by being ignorant of what greatness is 
promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and fare¬ 
well/; 

'Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt he 2 
What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy 
nature; 

It is too full o' the milk of human kindness 3 
To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be 

great; 20 

Art not without ambition: but without 
The illness 4 should attend it: what thou wouldst 
highly, 

That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false 
And yet wouldst wrongly win; thou’ldst have, 
great Glamis, 

That which cries Thus thou must do, if thou 
have it/* 

And that which rather thou dost fear to do 
Than wishest should be undone . 5 Hie thee 6 
hither, 

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; 

And chastise with the valour of my tongue 
All that impedes thee from the golden round , 7 f 30 
Which fate and metaphysical 8 aid doth seem 
To have thee crown ’d withal . 9 

Enter a Messenger. 

What is your tidings? 

Alt. The king comes here to-night. 

Lady M. Thou’rt mad to say it: 

Is not thy master with him? who, were’t so, 
Would have inform’d for 10 preparation. 


1 right to share 
in my joy 

2 mark the note 
of deter¬ 
mination 
Mildness, 
gentleness 


4 disposition to 
wickedness 
which 


B not done 
6 hasten 


7 crown 

8 supernatural 
Hs seen to have 
crowned 
thee with 


lo for the pur¬ 
pose of 


*In short: “The only way to obtain what thou wishest to possess, (the 
crown) is by murdering Duncan; but whilst thou wishest the end, thou dost 
fear to use those means by which alone that end oould be attained. ” 

f I.e. by brave words of encouragement drive away all the scruples which 
stand in the way of your obtaining the crown. 









80 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


Att. So please you, it is true: our thane is 
coming: 

One of my fellows 1 had the speed of 2 him, 

Who, almost dead/or 3 breath, had scarcely more 
Than would make up his message. 

Lady M. Give him tending ; 4 

He brings great news. [Exit Messenger.] 

The raven 6 himself is hoarse - 40 
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 


1 companions 
2 start of 
3 for want of 


4 attend to him 

6 i.e. the mes¬ 
senger 


Under my battlements. Come, you spirits 
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, 

And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full 
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; 

Stop up the access and passage to remorse ,« 

That no compunctious visitings of nature 
Shake my fell 1 purpose, nor keep peace between 
The effect and it!* Come to my woman’s 
breasts, 

And take my milk for 8 gall, you murdering 

ministers , 9 50 

Wherever in your sightless substances 10 
You wait on nature's mischief! 11 Come, thick 
night, 

And pall thee in the dunnest 12 smoke of hell, 

That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, 
Nor heaven 13 peep through the blanket 14 of the 

cry, “Hold, hold!_^_ 

Enter Macbeth. 



6 pity 

7 horrible 
8 change into 
9 ministers of 
murder 

^invisible forms 
ll the destruc¬ 
tion of life; 
“nature” = 
human life 
12 put on a cloak 
of the dark¬ 
est 


u light 

l4 i.e. the dark 
“pall” of l. 
63 


Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! 
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! 
Thy letters have transported me beyond 
This ignorant present,! and I feel now 


*Let no tender feeling gain entrance to or even approach my heart, lest 
my hideous purpose be shaken by the natural pangs of conscience, and its 
realization be thereby prevented. “Keep peace,” i.e. as if pity (“remorse”) 
were to cry “hold!” or “stop!” Cf. line 56. 

t I-e have enabled me to see into the future. The “present” is said to 
be “ignorant, ” because it sees not the future. 






Scene VI] 


MACBETH 


81 


The future in the instant. 

Mach. My dearest love, 60 

Duncan comes here to-night. 

Lady M. And when goes hence? 

Macb. To-morrow, as he purposes. 

Lady M. O, never 

Shall sun that morrow see! 

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men 
May read strange matters. To beguile the time, 
Look like the time; 1 bear welcome in your eye, 
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent 
flower, 

But be the serpent under ’t. He 2 that ’s coming 
Must be provided for: 3 and you shall put 
This night's great business into my dispatch ; 4 70 
Which shall to all our nights and days to come 
Give solely sovereign sway 6 and masterdom. 

Macb. We will speak further. 

Lady M. Only look up clear; 

To alter favour 6 ever is to fear: 7 

Leave all the rest to me. [Exeunt. 



Scene VI. The same. Before the Castle. 

Hautboys 8 and torches. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, 
Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, 
Ross, Angus, and Attendants. 

Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat; 9 the 
air 

Nimbly 10 and sweetly recommends itself 
Unto our gentle senses.* 

Ban. This guest of summer, 

The temple-haunting martlet" does approve 12 
By his loved mansionry 13 that the heaven’s 
breath 

Smells wooingly 14 here: no jutty , IS frieze, 

Buttress, nor coign of vantage" but this bird 


Ho deceive the 
world look 
as the world 
looks 

2 i.e. Duncan 
3 murdered 

4 management 

Ho us alone im¬ 
perial 
power 

6 change coun¬ 
tenance 
7 show fear 
8 hautboy (or 
oboe)is a 
musical 
wind in¬ 
strument 
like a flute 
9 situation 
10 briskly 
n a kind of 
swallow 
12 prove , attest 
13 making this a 
favorite 
place of 
abode; man¬ 
sionry = 
abode 
14 invitingly 
15 there is no 
ledge 

16 suitable cor¬ 
ner 


*“Our senses are soothed by the brisk, sweet air.”—Clarendon Press 
Edition. 








82 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: 1 
Where they most breed and haunt, I have ob¬ 
served 

The air is delicate. 


1 hanging nest 
and cradle 
of his 
family 


Enter Lady Macbeth. 

Dun. See, see, our honour’d hostess! 10 

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble , 2 * 
Which still we thank as love. Herein 3 1 teach 
you 

How you shall bid God Hid* us for your pains 
And thank us for your trouble. 

Lady M. All our service 

In every point twice done, and then done double, 
Were poor and single business to contend 
Against 6 those honours deep and broad where¬ 
with 

Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, 
And the late dignities 6 heap’d up to them, 

We rest your hermits. 7 

Dun. Where’s the thane of Cawdor? 20 
We coursed him 8 at the heels, and had a purpose 
To be his purveyor : 9 but he rides well; 

And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp 10 
him 

To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, 

We are your guest to-night. 

Lady M. Your servants ever 

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in 
compt, n 

To make their audit 12 at your highness’ pleasure, 

Still to return your own. 

1 Dun. Give me your hand; 

Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, 
And shall continue our graces towards him. 30 
By your leave , hostess. 13 [Exeunt. 


2 a cause of 
trouble to us 
3 by my 
example 
*for “yield” 
in its old 
sense “re¬ 
ward” 

5 a simple (triv¬ 
ial ) thing 
compared 
with 

6 recent honors 
7 beadsmen, i.e. 
bound to 
pray for you 
8 pursued him 
hotly 

°warn you of 
his coming. 

See Glossary 
10 helped 


u accountable 
12 furnish a 
reckoning 


13 he takes Lady 
Macbeth’s 
hand 


*The meaning of this and the following lines appears to be: “Your love 
for us gives us pain on account of its insistence; nevertheless we thank it 
because it is love. So, my example will teach you to bid God reward us for 
the trouble we give you (“your pains") and to thank us for causing you that 
trouble (because the fact of our doing so is a sign of our love for you). ” 








Scene VII] 


MACBETH 


Scene VII. Macbeth’s Castle. 

Hautboys and torches . Enter, and pass over the 
stage, a Sewer , 1 and Divers Servants with 
dishes and service . Then enter Macbeth. 

Mach . If it were done 2 when ’tis done, 3 * therT^ 
’twere well 

It were done quickly: if the assassination 
Could trammel up 4 the consequence, and catch 
With his surcease 5 success; that but this blow 6 
Might be the be-all and the end-all here, 

Bui here, upon this bank and shoal of time,f 
We’id jump 7 the life to come. But in these 
cases 

We still have judgment here; that 8 we but teach 
Bloody instructions , 9 which being taught return 
To plague the inventor: this even-handed 

justice 10 

Commends the ingredients 10 of our poison’d 
cJiaMce}} _ 

To our own lips. I He’s here in double trust;t 
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, 

Strong both 12 against the deed; then, as his host, 
Who should against his murderer shut the door, 

Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Dun¬ 
can 

Hath borne his faculties so meek , 13 hath been 
So clear u in his great office, that his virtues 
Will plead like J^jjgels trumpet-tongued against 
The deep damnation 15 of his taking off; 20 

And pity, like a naked new-born babe, 

Striding the blast, 16 or heaven’s cherubim, horsed 
Upon the sightless couriers 17 of the air, 

Shall blow the hdmid deed in every eye, 

That 18 tears shall vlrown the wind. I have no 
spur 


83 


1 chief servant. 
See Glossary 


^finished with 
Executed, per¬ 
formed 

4 arrest , or en¬ 
tangle, with¬ 
in its net. 

6 Duncan's 
death 

6 so that this 
single act 
(of assas¬ 
sination) 

7 risk, take our 
chance of 
8 so that 
9 how to com¬ 
mit murder 
10 presents the 
contents 
n cup 

12 two strong 
reasons 


13 exercised his 
powers so 
meekly 

irreproachable 
16 terrible sin 

16 riding upon 
the tempest 
17 invisible 
winds 
18 so that 


i'j'See-p. 177 on which this passage is paraphrased, 
f A metaphor, in which death is regarded as a strip of land separating 
two oceans; i.e. separating this present life from the life to come. 

\I.e. I am doubly bound in honor to care for his safety under my roof. 







84 


MACBETH 


[Act I 


To prod the sides of my intent, 1 but only 
Vaulting ambition, which o ’erleaps itself, 

And falls on the other . 2 

Enter Lady Macbeth. 

How now? what news? 

Lady M. He has almost supp’d. Why have 
you left the chamber? 

Mach. Hath he ask’d for me? 

Lady M. Know you not he has? 30 

Mach. We will proceed no further in this 
business: 

He hath honour’d me of late; and I have bought 3 
Golden opinions from all sorts of people, 

Which would 4 be worn now in their newest gloss, 

Not cast aside so soon. 

Lady M. Was the hope drurfk 

Wherein you dress’d yourself? hath it slept since? 

And wakes it now, to look so green and pale 5 
At what it did so freely? From this time, 

Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard 
To he the same in thine own act and valour 40 

As thou art 6 in desire? Wouldst thou have that 
Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life, 7 
And live a coward in thine own esteem, 

Letting “I dare not” wait upon “I would,”* * 

Like the poor catf i’ the adages 
Mach. Prithee, peace: 

I dare do all that may become a man; 

Who dares do more, is none. 

Lady M. What beast was’t then, 

That made you break 9 this enterprise to me? 

When you durst do it, then you were a man; 

And, to be 10 more than what you were, you would 50 
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place 
Did then adhere, 11 and yet you would make both: 12 
They have made themselves, and that their 13 fit¬ 
ness now 

Does unmake you. _ 

*Letting your fears accompany your desires. 
t“The cat would eat fish and would not wet her feet. 
Proverbs. 


purpose: 

2 sc. side. Note 
the two 
metaphors 
from spur¬ 
ring a horse 
and vault- 
ting over the 
saddle 


Acquired 
4 should 


6 i.e. with fear 


Ho let your 
deed and 
bravery cor¬ 
respond 
with what 
you desire 
7 i.e. the crown 
8 proverb 


9 disclose 

10 in being 

n were then 
favorable 
12 i.e. favorable 
13 their very 


”—Hey wood’s 






Scene VII] 


MACBETH 


85 


Mach. If we should fail? 

Lady M. We fail! 

But screw your courage to the sticking-place, 1 
And we ’ll not fail. When Duncan is asleep— 
Whereto the rather shall his day’s hard journey 
Soundly invite him—his two chamberlains 2 
Will I with wine and wassail 9 so convince , 4 
That memory, the warder 6 of the brain, 60 

Shall be a fume, 6 and the receipt 7 of reason 
A limbec 8 only: when in swinish sleep 
Their drenched natures lie as in a death, 

What cannot you and I perform upon 
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon 
His spongy 9 officers, who shall bear the guilt 
Of our great quellf 10 

Macb. Will it not be received , u 

When we have mark’d with blood those sleepy 
two 

Of his own chamber, and used their very daggers, 
That they have done ’t? 

Lady M. Who dares receive it other, 70 
As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar 
Upon his death? 

Macb. I am settled, and bend up 

Each corporal agent 12 to this terrible feat. 

Away, and mock the time 13 with fairest show: 

False face must hide what the false heart doth 
know. [Exeunt. 


1 point at which 
it will re¬ 
main un¬ 
moved 

Officers of his 
chamber 
3 carousing 
Overpower 
6 guardian 
6 become fogged 
7 receptacle 
8 reservoir . See 
Glossary 
9 i.e. saturated 
with drink 
10 murder. See 
Glossary 
generally 
thought 


12 strain every 
organ of my 
body 

u delude the 
world. Cf. 
I. v. 65 





86 


MACBETH 


[Act II 


ACT II. 


Scene I. Inverness. Court of Macbeth's Castle. 

Enter Banquo, and Fleance bearing a torch. 

Ban. How goes the night, boy? 

Fie. The moon is down; I have not heard the 
clock. 

Ban. And she goes down at twelve. 

Fie. I take 't, 'tis later, sir. 

Ban. Hold, take my sword. There’s hus¬ 
bandry 1 in heaven; 

^Theircandles are all out. Take thee that 2 too. 
>c XTieavy^ummons lies like lead upon me, 

And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, 
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature 
Gives way to in repose!—Give me my sword. 

Who’s there? 10 


Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch. 
Macb. A friend. 

Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's 
a-bed: 

He hath been in unusual pleasure, and 
Sent forth great largess 3 to your offices . 4 
This diamond he greets your wife withal, 

By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up 5 
In measureless content. 

I Macb. Being unprepared, j 

| Our will became the servant to defect;* / 

. Which else should free have wrought .« 

Ban. All’swell. 

I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: 20 
To you they have show’d some truth. 


1 economy 
2 a shield or a 
helmet 


presents 

Servants 

*has retired. Sc. 
is 


8 otherwise 
would have 
had free 
play 


♦Our good will has been limited by, or subject to, our deficiencies. 








Scene I] 


MACBETH 


87 


Macb. I think not of them: 

Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, 

We would spend it in some words upon that 
business, 

If you would grant theTime. 

Ban. At your kind’st leisure. 

Mach. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 

1 tiSj 1 

It shall make honour for you. 

Ban. So 2 I lose none 

In seeking to augment it, but still keep 
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,* 

I shall be counsell’d. 

Mach. Good repose, the while! 

Ban. Thanks, sir: the like to you. 30 

j Exeunt Banquo and Fleance. 
Mach. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink 
is ready, 

She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. 

[ Exit Servant. 

Is this a dagger which I see before me, 

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me 
clutch thee: 

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. 

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible 
To feeling as to sightP or art thou but 
A dagger of the mind, a false creation, 

Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? 

I see thee yet, in form as palpable* 40 

As this which now I draw. 

Thou marshall ’st me the way that I was going; 
And such an instrument I was to use. 

Mine eyes are made the fools 6 o’ the other senses, 

Or else worth all the rest:f I see thee still; 

And on thy blade and dudgeon 6 gouts 7 of blood, 
Which was not so before. There’s no such thing: 
It is the bloody business which informs 


1 abide by my 
counsel, 
when the 
time arrives 
2 provided that 


3 able to be felt 
as well as 
seen 

*substantial 


Haughing stock 

6 handle 
1 drops 


*My conscience free, and my loyalty (to my sovereign) irreproachable. 

f I.e. My eyes tell me right, and my other senses (especially my sense of 
touch), are wrong. 










88 


MACBETH 


[Act 11 


Thus to mine eyes. Now o ’er the one half-world 
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse 50 
The curtained sleep ;* witchcraft celebrates 
Pale Hecate’s offerings; and wither’d 2 murder, 
Alarum’d 3 by his sentinel, the wolf, 

Whose howl ’s his watch , 4 thus with his stealthy 
pace, 

With Tarquin’s 5 ravishing strides, towards his 
design 

Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set 
earth, 

Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for 
fear 

Thy very stones 6 prate of my whereabout, 

And take the present horror from the time, 

Which now suits with it.* Whiles I threat, he 

lives: 60 

Words t6 the heat of deeds too cool breath gives. 

[A bell rings. 

I go, and it is done: the bell invites me. 

Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell 7 
That summons thee to heaven or to hell. 

[Exit. 


Scene II. The Same. 

Enter Lady Macbeth. 

Lady M. That which hath made them 
drunk hath made me bold; 

What hath quench ’d 8 them hath given me fire. 
Hark! Peace! 

It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman, 

Which gives the stern ’st good-night. He is 
about it: 

The doors are open, and the surfeited grooms 

Do mock their charge witti snores: I have 
drugg ’d their Cossets?) 

That 10 death and nature clocontend about them, 


*And cause me to postpone the horrible deed which suits 
of silence. 


Hempt to evil 
the sleeper 
on his cur¬ 
tained bed 
2 spectre-like 
3 awakened 
Hells him the 
progress of 
the night 
8 see Note II. 
i. 55 


6 cf. St. Luke 
xix. J,0 


7 the sound of a ^ 
funeral bell 


8 stupefied 


9 evening 
drinks 

10 so that 

so well this time 







Scene II] 


MACBETH 


89 


Whether they live or die. 

Mach. [Within] Who's there? 1 what, ho! 

Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have 
awaked, 

And ’tis not done. The attempt and not the 

deed 10 

Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers 
ready; 

He could not miss ’em. Had he not resembled 
My father as he slept, I had done ’t. My hus¬ 
band! 


1 Macbeth hears 
the sound 
referred to 
in lines 2 
and 3 


Enter Macbeth. 

Mach. I have done the deed. Didst thou 
not hear a noise? 

Lady M. I heard the owl scream and the 
crickets cry. 

Did not you speak? 

Mach. When? 

Lady. M. Now. 

Mach. As I descended? 

Lady M. Ay. 

Mach. Hark! 

Who lies i’ the second chamber? 

Lady M. Donalbain. 

Mach. This is a sorry sight. [Looking on his 20 
hands. 

Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry 
sight. 

Mach. There ’s one 2 did laugh in ’s sleep, 
and one cried, “Murder!” 

That 3 they did wake each other: I stood and 
heard them; 

But they did say their prayers, and address'd 
them 4 

Again to sleep. 

Lady M. There are two lodged together. 

Mach. One cried, “God bless us!” and, 
“Amen,” the other; 

As 5 they had seen me with these hangman’s 
hands: 


2 one who 
3 so that 

Composed 

themselves 

h as if 




90 


MACBETH 


[Act II 


Listening their fear, I could not say “Amen,” 
When they did say “God bless us!” 

Lady M. Consider it not so deeply. 
Mach. But wherefore could not I pronounce 


“Amen?” . 30 

I had most need of blessing, and “Amen” 

Stuck in my throat. 

Lady M. These deeds must not be thought 
After these ways; so, it will make us mad. 

^ Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, ‘‘ Sleep 
no more! 

Macbeth does murder sleep, ” the innocent sleep, 
Sleep, that knits up* the ravell’d sleave 1 of care, 
The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath, 
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second 
course , 2 

Chief nourisher in life’s feast,—• 

Lady M. What do you mean? 

Mach. Still it cried, “Sleep no more!” to all 
the house: 40 

“Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore 
Cawdor 

Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no 


1 tangled sleave - 
silk 


Hhe second 
course in 
nature's 
daily ban¬ 
quet 


more. ” 

Lady M. Who was it that thus cried? Whjr, 
worthy thane, 

You do unbend your noble strength, to think 
So brainsickly 3 of things. Go, get some water, 
And wash this filthy witness 4 from your hand. 

Why did you bring these daggers from the place? 
They must lie there: go carry them, and smear 
The sleepy grooms with blood. 

Macb. I ’ll go no more: 

I am afraid to think what I have done; 50 

Look on’t again I dare not. 

Lady M. Infirm of purpose! 

Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead 
Are but as pictures; ’tis the eye of childhood 


3 madly 

4 i.e. the stains 
of blood 


*The cares of the day disorder and entangle the tired mind (ravelTd 
sleave or skein of floss silk), which under the influence of sleep is again rested 
and restored to order. 






Scene III] 


MACBETH 


91 


That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, 

I ’ll gild 1 the faces of the grooms withal; 

For it must seem their guilt. 

[Exit. Knocking within. 
Mach. Whence is that knocking? 

How is’t with me, when every noise appals me? 
What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine 
eyes. 

Will all great Neptune’s 2 ocean wash this blood 
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will 
rather 

The multitudinous seas incar nar dine , 3 
Making the green one red* 

Re-enter Lady Macbeth. 

Lady M. My hands are of your colour: but I 
shame 

To wear a heart so white. [Knocking within.] 
I hear a knocking 

At the south entry; retire we 5 to our chamber: 
A little water clears us of this deed: 

How easy is it, then! Your constancy 
Hath left you unattended . 6 [Knocking within.] 

Hark! more knocking. 

Get on your nightgown , 7 lest occasion call us 
And show us to be watchers. Be not lost 8 
So poorly in your thoughts. 

Macb. To know my deed, ’twere best not 
know myself.* [Knocking within. 

Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would 
thou couldst! [Exeunt. 


x smear with 
his blood. 
Mark the 
play on 
words, 
u gild ” and 
“guilt” 


60 


2 Roman sea- 
god 


3 make red the 
measureless 
seas 

*one uniform 
red color 


Het us retire 


70 


6 firmness has 
deserted you 

1 dressing-gown 

8 do not lose 
yourself 


o- 


y Scene III. The Same. 
Enter a Porter. 


[Knocking within. 
Porter. Here’s a knocking, indeed! If a 
man were porter of hell-gate, he should have 


*In reply to Lady Macbeth’s “Be not lost,” etc., Macbeth says, in effect: 
“I would rather lose myself altogether in my thoughts than be brought back 
to the consciousness of what I have done.” 







92 


MACBETH 


[Act II 


old 1 turning the key:— [Knocking within.] 
knock, knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ the name 
of Beelzebub? Here’s a farmer, that hanged 
himself on 2 the expectation of plenty: Come 
in time; have napkins 9 enow about you; here 
you ’ll sweat for’t. [. Knocking within.] Knock, 
knock! Who’s there, in the other devil’s name? 
Faith, here’s an equivocator , 4 that could swear 10 
in both the scales against either scale; who com¬ 
mitted treason enough for God’s sake, yet could 
not equivocate to heaven : 5 O! come in, equivo¬ 
cator. [Knocking within.] Knock, knock, 
knock! Who’s there? Faith, here’s an English 
tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French 
hose: 6 Come in, tailor; here you may roast 
your goose." 1 [Knocking within.] Knock, 
knock; Never at quiet! What are you? But 
this place is too cold for hell. I ’ll devil-porter 8 20 
it no further: I had thought to have let in some 
of all professions, that go the primrose 9 way to 
the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking within.] 
Anon, anon! 16 I pray you, remember the porter. 

[Opens the gate. 

Enter Macduff and Lennox. 

Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went 
to bed, 

That you do lie so late? 

Port. Faith, sir, we were carousing till the 
second cock. 11 

Macd. Is thy master stirring? 

Enter Macbeth. 

Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. 

Len. Good morrow, noble sir. 

Macb. Good morrow, both. 30 

Macd. Is the king stirring, worthy thane? 

Macb. Not yet. 

Macd. He did command me to call timely 12 
on him; 


1 an intensive 
particle. Cf. 
the collo¬ 
quial high 
old time 
lowing to 
z handkerchiefs 


4 perhaps = 
Jesuit. See 
Intro, p. 22 

6 get to heaven 
by equivoca¬ 
tion {du¬ 
plicity) 

6 breeches 

7 heat your 
flatiron 

8 be the deviVs 
porter 

9 bright, 
pleasant 

10 coming at 
once! 


u i.e. about 3 
o ’clock a.m. 


12 early 




Scene III] 


MACBETH 


93 


I have almost slipp’d the hour. 

Mach. I’ll bring you to him. 

Macd. I know this is a joyful trouble to you; 
But yet ’tis one. 1 

Mach. The labour we delight in physics pain.* 
This is the door. 

Macd. I ’ll make so bold to call, 

For ’tis my limited service : 2 [Exit. 

Len. Goes the king hence to-day? 

Macb. He does: he did appoint so. 

Len. The night has been unruly ; 3 where we 
lay, 40 

Our chimneys were blown down, and, as they 
say, 

Lamentings heard i’ the air, strange screams of 
death, 

And prophesying with accents terrible 
Of dire combustion 4 and confused events 
New hatch ’d 6 to the woeful time.f The obscure 
bird 6 

Clamour’d the livelong night: some say, the 
earth 

Was feverous , 7 and did shake. 

Macb. ’Twas a rough night. 

Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel 
A fellow to it. 

Re-enter Macduff. \ 

Macd. O horror, horror, horror! Tongue, 
nor 8 heart 50 

Cannot conceive nor name thee! 

Macb., Len. What’s the matter? 

Macd. Confusion 9 now hath made his master¬ 
piece! 

Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope 10 
The Lord’s anointed temple, £ and stole 11 thence 


! i.e. a trouble 


1 appointed 
duty 


3 boisterous 


Conflagration . 
social dis¬ 
turbances 
*newly born 
Hhe owl 

7 affected with 
fever or an 
ague 


Mouble nega¬ 
tive 


0 destruction y 
ruin. Cf. 
III. v. 29. 
10 broken into 
n stolen 


*I.e. When our labor is pleasant there is in it'that (viz. the delight) which 
counteracts the trouble. 


f I.e. A new brood of horrors befitting the dreadful weather. 


fThe king is ‘‘the Lord’s anointed temple of the living God.” 









94 


MACBETH 


[Act II 


The life o’ the building. 

Mach. What is ’t you say? the life? 

Len. Mean you his majesty? 

Macd. Approach the chamber, and destroy 
your sight 

With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak: 

See, and then speak yourselves. 

[Exeunt Macbeth and Lennox. 

Awake, awake! 

Ring the alarum-bell. Murder, and treason! 60 
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! 

Shake off this downy 1 sleep, death’s counterfeit, 2 
And look on death itself! up, up, and see 
The great doom’s image! 3 Malcolm! Banquo! 

As from your graves rise up, and walk like 
sprites, 

To countenance 4 this horror! Ring the bell. 

[Bell rings. 

Enter Lady Macbeth. 

Lady M. What’s the business, 

That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley 5 
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! 

Macd O gentle lady, 

*Tis not for you to hear what I cah speak: 70 

The repetition ,® in a woman’s ear, 

Would murder as it fell. 

Enter Banquo. 

O Banquo, Banquo, 

Our royal master’s murdered! 

LadyM. Woe, alas! 

What, in our house? 

Ban. Too cruel anywhere. 

Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, 

And say, it is not so. 

Re-enter Macbeth. and Lennox. 

Mach. Had I but died an hour before this 
chance , 7 


'soft, placid 
Hmage 

3 a picture of 
the last 
judgment 

'be in keeping 
with 


6 conference 


Ho tell it 


1 event 




Scene III] 


MACBETH 


95 


I had lived a blessed time: for, from this instant 
There’s nothing serious 1 in mortality: 

All is but toys: 2 renown and grace is 3 dead; 

The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees 
Is left this vault* to brag of. 

Enter Malcolm and Donalbain. 

Don. What is amiss? 

Macb. You are, b and do not know’t: 

The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood 
Is stopp’d; the very source of it is stopp’d. 
Macd. Your royal father’s murdered. 

Mai. O, by whom? 

Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem’d, 
had done’t: 

Their hands and faces were all badged with 
blood; 

So were their daggers, which unwiped we found 
upon their pillows: 

They stared , 6 and were distracted; no man’s life 
Was to be trusted with them. 

Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury, 
That I did kill them. 


1 important , 
weighty; i.e. 
there *s no¬ 
thing worth 
living for 
Hrifles 
3 are. See 

Gramma¬ 
tical notes, 

p. 168 
*world 

6 i.e. you are 
amiss 


90 


6 glared 


Macd. Wherefore did you so? 

Macb. Who can be wise, awm^e^ Temperate 
and furious, 

Loyal and neutral,* in a moment? No man: 

The expedition 8 of my violent love 

Outrun the pauser reason. Here lay Duncan, 

His silver skin laced 9 with his golden blood, 

And his gash ’d stabs 10 look’d like a breach in 
nature 

For ruin’s wasteful entrance:! there, the 

murderers, 100 

Steep’d in the colours of their trade, their daggers 
Unmannerly breech’d 11 with gore: who could re¬ 
frain, 


7 confused 


^impetuosity 

*stre'aked 

10 gaping 

wounds 


11 indecently 
clothed 


*Loyal, as a subject of the king’s; neutral, as a judge. 
fAn opening through which death had entered and performed his work 
of destruction. 






96 


MACBETH 


[Act II 


That had a heart to love, and in that heart 
Courage to make ’s love known? 

Lady M. Help me hence / ho! 

Macd. Look to the lady. 

Mai. [Aside to Don.] Why do we hold our 
tongues 

That most may claim this argument 2 for ours? 
Don. [Aside to Mal.] What should be 


1 she faints 


Subject, theme 


spoken 

Here, where our Fate, 3 hid in an auger-hole , 4 
May rush, and seize us? Let’s away: our 
tears 

Are not yet brew’d.*^ 

Mal. [Aside to Don.] Nor our strong sorrow 110 
Upon the foot of motion . 8 
Ban. Look to the lady: 

[Lady Macbeth is carried out. 
And when we have our naked frailties 8 hid, 

That suffer in exposure, let us meet, 

And question 7 this most bloody piece of work, 

To know it further. Fears and scruples 8 shake 
us: 

In the great hand of God I stand, and thence, 
Against the undivulged pretence 9 I fight 
Of treasonous malice. 

Macd. And so do I. 

All. So all. 

Macd. Let’s briefly put on manly readiness , 10 
And meet i’ the hall together. 

All. Well contented. 120 

[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. 
Mal. What will you do? Let’s not consort 
with them: 

To show an unfelt sorrow is an office 
Which the false man does easy. I ’ll to England. 

Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune 
Shall keep us both the safer; where we are, 


3 i.e. death 
*ambushed in 
some secret 
spot 


*ready to move 
in action 


6 scantily clad 
bodies 

7 discuss 
• 8 doubts 


9 secret pur¬ 
poses 


10 equip our¬ 
selves and 
prepare for 
action 




*These words suggest a contrast to the artificial and strained grief of 
Macbeth. 









Scene IV] 


Macbeth 


97 


There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in 
blood 

The nearer bloody.* 

Mai. This murderous shaft that’s shot 

Hath not yet lighted; 1 and our safest way 

Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; 

And let us not be dainty of 2 leave-taking, 130 

But shift away: there's warrant in 3 that theft 
Which steals itself when there's no mercy left. 

[Exeunt. 

Reached its 
mark 

Scrupulous 

about 

3 excuse, or jus¬ 
tification 
for 

Scene IV. Outside Macbeth's Castle. 


Enter Ross and an Old Man. 

Old M. Threescore and ten I can remember 
well: 

Within the volume* of which time I have seen 

Hours dreadful and things strange; but this 
sore 5 night 

Hath trifled 6 former knowings. 

Ross. Ah, good father, 

Thou seest, the heavens, as 7 troubled with 
man’s act, 

Threaten his bloody stage: 8 by the clock 'tis day, 

And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: 8 

Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, 

That darkness does the face of earth entomb, 

When living light should kiss it?f 

Old M. 'Tis unnatural, 10 

Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, 

A falcon, towering 10 in her pride of place, 11 

Was by a mousing 12 owl hawk ’d at 13 and kill'd. 

Ross. And Duncan's horses—a thing most 
strange and certain— 

*course 

6 dreadful 
°made as trifles 
in compari¬ 
son 

7 as if 

s the world 

9 i.e. the sun 

10 circling aloft 

11 the highest 
point to 
which she 
soars 

12 mouse-hunt¬ 
ing 

13 attacked on 
the wing 


*The nearer any man ( e.g. Macbeth) is in relationship to us, the more 
prone he will be to commit murder. 

fls it that night’s (harmful) influence prevails triumphantly over the 
daylight, or is it because the day is ashamed to show her light (when such deeds 
of darkness are being done) that darkness still casts its black shroud over the 
surface of the earth, at an hour when cheering light should salute it? 










98 


MACBETH 


[Act II 


Beauteous and swift, the minions 1 of their race, 
Turn’d wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung 
out, 

Contending ’gainst obedience, as 2 they would 
make 

War with mankind. 

Old M. ’Tis said, they eat each other. 
Ross. They did so, to the amazement of mine 
eyes, 

That look’d upon ’t. Here comes the good 

Macduff. 20 

Enter Macduff. 

How goes the world, sir, now? 

Macd. Why, see you not? 

Ross. Is ’t known who did this more than 
bloody deed? 

Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain. 

Ross. Alas, the day! 

What good could they pretendP 

Macd. Theywer e suborn’d * 

Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king’s two sons, 

Are stol ; n away and fled, which puts upon them 
Suspicion of the deed 

Ross. & 'Gainst nature still: 5 

Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up 5 
Thine own life’s means! Then ’tis most like 
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. 30 
Macd. He is already named, and gone to 
Scone 

To be invested. 

Ross. Where is Duncan’s body? 

Macd. Carried to Colme-kill, 

The sacred storehouse 7 of his predecessors 
And guardian of their bones. 

Ross. Will you to Scone? 

Macd. No, cousin, J’lLto Fife. 

Ross. Well, I will thither. 

Macd. Well, may you see things well done 
there: adieu! 


l most esteemed 

*as if 


3 aim at 
Hncited to it 


6 cf. 1. 10, p. 97 
*utterly devour 


7 tomb 




Scene IV] 


MACBETH 


99 


Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! 

Ross . Farewell, father. 

Old M . God’s benison 1 go with you; and with 
those 40 

That would make good of bad, and friends of 
foes! 

[Exeunt. 


1 blessing 





100 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


ACT III. 

Scene I. Forres. The Palace. Enter Banquo. 



Ban. Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, 
Glamis, all, 

As the weird women promised; and I fear, 

Thou play’dst most foully for ’t; yet it was said 
It should not stand 1 in thy posterity, 

But that myself should be the root and father 
Of many kings. If there come truth from them— 
As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine 2 — 
Why, by the verities 3 on thee made good, 

May they not be my oracles 4 as well, 

And set me up in hope? But, hush! no more. 10 

Sennet 5 sounded. Enter Macbeth, as king; Lady 
Macbeth, as queen; Lennox, Ross, Lords , 
Ladies , and Attendants. 

Mach. Here’s our chief guest. 

Lady M. If he had been forgotten, 

It had been as a gap in our great feast, 

And all-thing* unbecoming. 

Mach. To-night we hold a solemn 1 supper, sir, 
And I ’ll request your presence. 

Ban. Let your highness 

Command upon me; to the which my duties 
Are with a most indissoluble tie 
For ever knit. 

Mach. Rid^you this afternoon? 

Ban. Ay, my good lord. 

Mach. We should have else desired your good 

advice, 20 

Which still hath been both grave and prosperous , 8 
In this day’s council; but we’ll take to-morrow. 

Is ’t far you ride? 

Ban. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 


1 remain, con¬ 
tinue 


2 i.e. with the 
brightness 
of truth 
Hruths 
Hnterpret 
heaven’s 
will for me 
6 flourish of 
trumpets 


6 altogether 
7 ceremonious 


8 weighty and 
happy, or 
leading to 
good issues 






Scene I] 


MACBETH 


101 


’Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the 
better, 1 

I must become a borrower of the night 
For a dark hour or twain. 

Macb. Fail not _ our~ieft6t. 

Ban. My lord, I will not. 

Macb. We hear our bloody 2 cousins are 
bestow ’ d 3 

In England and in Ireland, not confessing 30 
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers 
With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, 
When therewithal we shall ha\ e cause of state 1 
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, 

Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with 

Ban. Ay, my good lord: our time does call 
upon’s. 

Macb. I wish your horses swift and sure of 
foot; 

And so I do commend you to their backs. 

Farewell. [Exit Banquo. 

Let every man be master of his time 49 

Till seven at night: to make society 
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself 
Till supper time alone: while 5 then, God be 
with you! 

[Exeunt all but Macbeth and an Attendant . 
Sirrah, 6 a word with you: Attend those men 
Our pleasure? 

Atten. They are, my lord, without the palace 
gate. 

Macb. Bring them before us. [Exit Attendant. 
To be thus 1 is not hing: 

But to be safely thus A ~ Our fears in Banquo 
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature 
Reigns that which would 9 be fear’d: ’tis much 

he dares, , . 50 

And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, 

He hath a wisdom 10 that doth guide his valour 
To act in safety. There is none but he 
Whose being 11 I do fear: and under him 


1 better than 
usual 


2 murderous 

3 have estab¬ 
lished them¬ 
selves 

Estate affairs 


Hill 


"see Glossary 


7 i.e. crowned 
8 sc. something 
like: “ that's 
the thing” 

9 requires to 


10 prudence 

Existence 











102 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


My Genius 1 is rebuked, as, it is said, 

Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. He chid the 
sisters, 

When first they put the name of king upon me, 
And bade them speak to him: then, prophet-like 2 
They hail’d him father to a line of kings: 

Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, 60 
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, 3 
Thence to be wrench’d with an unlineal 4 hand, 

No son of mine succeeding. If ’t be so, 

For Banquo’s issue have I filed 3 my mind; 

For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d; 
Put rancours 8 in the vessel of my peace,* 

Only for them; and mine eternal jewel 7 
Given to the common enemy of man, 

To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings: 
Rather chan so, come, fate, into the list, 70 

And champion me to the utterance / 8 Who ’s there? 

Re-enter Attendant with two Murderers. 
Now, go to the door, and stay there till we call. 

[Exit Attendant. 

Was it not yesterday we spoke together? 

1 Mur. It was, so please your highness. 

Mach. Well, then, now 

Have you consider’d of my speeches? Know, 
That it was he, in the times past, which 9 held you 
So under fortune, which 9 you thought had been 
Our innocent self 4 . This I made good 10 to you 
In our last conference; pass [d in probation with 11 
you 

How you were borne in hand, 12 how cross f d, 13 

the instruments, 80 

Who wrought with them, and all things else, 
that might 

To half a soul and to a notion crazed 
Say, “Thus did Banquo.” 

1 Mur . You made it known to us. 


l my demon, my 
conscience 


2 spoken con¬ 
temptuously 


3 grasp 
*not hered¬ 
itary 
h defiled, 
tainted 

6 malice , hatred 
7 immortal soul 


Challenge me 
to fight to 
the death 


9 who 

l0 plainly 

showed 

n proved clearly 
to 

12 as we say 
“ taken in ” 
13 thwarted 


*“Made myself live at discord with myself.”— Schmidt. (Schmidt, 
Heinrich Julian, born at Marienwerder, Prussia, 1818; died, 1886. A German 
literary historian and journalist). 






Scene I] 


MACBETH 


103 


Macb. I did so, and went further, which 1 is 
now 

Our point of second meeting. Do you find 
Your patience so predominant in your nature, 
That you can let this go? Are you so gospelVd 
To 2 pray for this good 3 man and for his issue, 

Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you to the grave 
And beggar’d yours for ever? 

1 Mur. * We are men , 4 my liege. 90 
Macb. Ay, in the catalogue 6 ye go for men; 

As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, 
curs, 

Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves,* are 
clept 8 

All by the name of dogs: the valued file 1 
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, 

The housekeeper , 8 the hunter, every one 
According to the gift which bounteous nature 
Hath in him closed , 9 whereby he does receive 
Particular addition™ from the bill 11 
That writes them all alike: and so of men. 100 
Now, if you have a station la in the file, 

Not i’ the worst rank 13 of manhood, say T; 

And I will put that business in your bosoms 14 
Whose execution takes your enemy off, 

Grapples you to the heart and love of us, 

Who wear our health but sickly in his life,f 
Which in 15 his death were perfect. 

2 Mur. I am one, my liege, 

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world 


1 and this—the 
other topic 


2 do you so act 
up to the 
precepts of 
the gospel as 
to 

z spoken iron¬ 
ically 
*human 
5 general list; 
i.e. in com¬ 
mon par¬ 
lance 
6 called 

7 list, showing 
values or 
prices 
s watch-dog 
Enclosed, 
included 
Hide 

u i.e. the general 
catalogue 
n any position 
13 grade 
u power 


15 on, or with 


Have so incensed, that I am reckless what 
I do to spite the world. 

1 Mur. And I another, 110 

So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune, 

That I would set my life on any chance, 

To mend it or be rid on T. 

Macb. Both of you 


*A shough (pronounced shook) is a dog with long hair or shag; a water- 
rug is a rough-haired poodle; a demi-wolf is a cross between a dog and a wolf. 

t I.e. Whose health is imperfect, or threatened, as long as he lives. 








104 


MACBETH 


JAct III 


Know Banquo was your enemy. 

2 Mur. True, my lord. 

Macb. So is he mine; and in such bloody 
distance, 1 

That every minute of his being 2 thrusts 
Against my nearest of life: 3 and though I could 
With barefaced power sweep him from my sight, 
And bid my will avouch it,* yet I must not— 

For 4 certain friends that are both his and mine, 120 
Whose loves I may not drop—but wail 6 his fall 
Who 6 I myself struck down: and thence it is, 
That I to your assistance do make love, 

Masking the business from the common eye 
For sundry weighty reasons. 

2 Mur. We shall, my lord, 

Perform what you command us. 

1 Mur . Though our lives— 

Macb. Your spirits 7 shine through you. 

Within this hour at most, 

I will advise you where to plant yourselves, 
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’ the time,f 
The moment on’t; for’t must be done to-night, 130 
And something 8 from the palace; always thought 9 
That I require a clearness: 10 and with him,— 

To leave no rubs nor botches 11 in the work—• 

Fleance his son, that keeps him company, 

Whose absence is no less material 12 to me 
Than is his father’s, must embrace the fate 
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves 13 apart; 

I’ll come to you anon. 

2 Mur. We are resolved, 14 my lord. 

Macb. I’ll call upon you straight: abide 

within. 


[Exeunt Murderers. 

It is concluded: Banquo, thy soul’s flight, 140 
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. [Exit. 


Hs such a 
dangerous 
enemy 
Existence 
Hs as a violent 
attack on 
my vital 
parts 

i on account of 
5 / must bewail 
°whom 


7 courage 


s some distance 
Ht being 

always re¬ 
membered 
10 i.e. from sus¬ 
picion 

11 imperfections 
nor bung¬ 
ling 

important 
n come to a 
definite 
decision 
14 determined 


*Make my will my (sufficient) reason or justification for it. 

fTell you exactly all the circumstances so far as observation can gain a 
knowledge of them. 






Scene II] 


MACBETH 


105 


Scene II. The same. Another Room. 


Enter Lady Macbeth and a Servant. 


Lady M. Is Banquo gone from court? 

Serv. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. 
Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his 
leisure 

For a few words. 

Serv. Madam, I will. [Exit. 

Lady M. Naught’s had, all’s spent. 

Where our desire is got without content: 1 
’Tis safer to be that which we destroy 
Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. 

Enter Macbeth. 


Contentment , 
peace of 
mind 


How now, my lord? why do you keep alone, 

Of sorriest 2 fancies your companions making; 

Using those thoughts which should indeed have 

died 10 

With them they think on? Things without all 
remedy 

Should he without regard :* what’s done, is done. 
Macb. We have scotch'd 4 the snake, not kill’d 
it: 

She’ll close 5 and be herself, whilst our poor 6 
malice 

Remains in danger of her former tooth. 

But let the frame of things disjoint , 7 both the 
-worlds suffer, 

Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep 
In the affliction of these terrible dreams 
That shake us nightly; better be with the dead, 
Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, 20 
Than on the torture of the mind 3 to lie 
In restless ecstasy 0 Duncan is in his grave; 

After life’s fitful fever 10 he sleeps well; 

Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, 
Malice domestic 11 foreign levy, 12 nothing 
Can touch him further. 

Lady M. Come on; 


2 saddest 


3 should not 
he regarded 
or thought of 
4 slightly 
wounded 
h heal up 
6 feeble , useless 
1 fabric of the 
world fall to 
pieces 


*with our 
minds upon 
the rack 
9 unceasing 
agony 

lo feverish agita¬ 
tion 

u i.e. treason at 
home 
12 forces 






106 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


Gentle, my lord, sleek o'er 1 your rugged looks; 

Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. 

Macb. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be 
you: 

Let your remembrance 2 apply to Banquo; 30 

Present him eminence,* both with eye and tongue: 
Unsafe 3 the while that we 

Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,! 
And make our faces visards to 4 our hearts, 
Disguising what they are. 

Lady M. You must leave this. 

Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear 
wife! 

Thou know’st that Banquo, and his Fleance, 
lives. 

Lady M. But in them nature's copy 's not 
eterne. 6 

Macb. There ’s comfort yet; they are assail¬ 
able; 

Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown 40 
His cloister’d flight, ere to black Hecate’s sum¬ 
mons 

The shard-borne beetle 6 with his drowsy hums 
Hath rung night’s yawning peal, there shall be 
done 

A deed of dreadful note. 

Lady M. What’s to be done? 

Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest 
chuck, 

Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling 7 
night, 

Scarf up 8 the tender eye of pitiful day, 

And with thy bloody and invisible hand 
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond 9 
Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the 

crow 50 

Makes wing to the rooky 10 wood; 


1 smooth 


2 courtesies 

3 we being un¬ 
safe 

4 masks to con¬ 
ceal 


Hheir tenure of 
life is not 
permanent 


8 beetle with its 
scaly wings 


7 i.e. that closes 
the eyelids 
8 blindfold 
°bond by which 
Banquo 
holds his 
life . See 1. 
38 

l0 haunted by 
rooks 


*Pay court to him as a most distinguished guest. 

tKeep our dignities clear from suspicion (or from the consequences which 
may result from suspicion) by means of flattery. 






Scene IIIJ 


MACBETH 


107 


Good things of day begin to droop and drowse: 
Whiles night’s black agents 1 to their preys do 
rouse. 2 

Thou marvell ’st at my words; but hold thee still: 
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. 
So, prithee, go with me. [Exeunt. 


*e.g. bats, 
wolves , 
murderers 
2 rise 


Scene III. A Park near the Palace. 
Enter three Murderers. 


Is' 


1 Mur. But who did bid thee join with us? 

8 Mur. Macbeth. 

2 Mur. He needs not our mistrust, 3 since he 

delivers 

Our offices* and what we have to do 
To the direction just. 6 

1 Mur. Then stand with us. 

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: 
Now spurs the lated 6 traveller apace 

To gain the timely 7 inn, and near approaches 
The subject of our watch. 

8 Mur. Hark! I hear horses. 

Ban. [Within.] Give us a light there, ho! 

2 Mur. Then’tishe: the rest 10 

That are within the note of expectation , 8 
Already are i’ the court. 

1 Mur. His horses go about. 9 

8 Mur. Almost a mile: but he does usually, 

So all men do, from hence to the palace gate 
Make it their walk. 

Enter Banquo and Fleance with a torch. 

2 Mur. A light, a light! 

8 Mur. ’Tis he. 

1 Mur. Stand to ’ t . 10 
Ban. It will be rain to-night. 

1 Mur. Let it come down. 

[They set upon Banquo. 
Ban. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, 
fly, fly! 


3 we need not 
distrust 
him 

4 reports our 
duties 

Exactly as we 
were in¬ 
structed 

8 belated 

7 welcome 


B on the list of 
expected 
bound 


10 keep firm 




108 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


Thou mayst revenge. O slave! 

[Dies. Fleance escapes. 

3 Mur. Who did strike out the light? 

1 Mur . Was ’t not the way? 20 

3 Mur. There’s but one down; the son is fled. 

2 Mur. We have lost 

Best half of our affair. 

1 Mur. Well, let’s away, and say how much 
is done. [Exeunt. 


Scene IV. Hall in the Palace. 

A Banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady 

Macbeth, Ross, Lennox, Lords and Attendants- 

Macb. You know your own degrees ,• sit 
down; at first 

And last* the hearty welcome. 

Lords. Thanks to your majesty. 

Macb. Ourself will mingle with society 

And play the humble host. 

Our hostess keeps her state , 2 but in best time? 

We will require her 4 welcome. 

Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our 
friends; 

For my heart speaks they are welcome. 

First Murderer appears at the door. 

Macb. See, they encounter 5 thee with their 
hearts’ thanks. 

Both sides are even: here I’ll sit i’ the midst: 10 

Be large 6 in mirth; anon, we’ll drink a measure 

The table round. [Approaching the door.] There’s 
blood upon thy face. 

Mur. ’Tis Banquo’s, then. 

Macb. ’Tis better thee without 7 than he 
within. 

Is he dispatch’d? 

Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did 
for him. 


banks, hence 
positions at 
table 


2 chair of state 
z at the proper 
time 

ball upon her 
to bid you 


h reply to (by 
their 
actions ) 

6 free, uncon¬ 
strained 


7 outside (the 
door) 


*In the first place ai\d in the last place; hence, once for all. 








Scene IY] 


MACBETH 


109 


Mach. Thou art the best o' the cut-throats; 
yet he ’s good, 

That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, 


Thou art the nonpareil . 1 

Unmatched, 

Mur . Most royal sir, 

have no 

Fleance is ’scaped. 20 

Mach. [Aside.] Then conies my fit again: I 
had else been perfect, 

equal 

Whole 2 as the marble, founded as the rock, 

As broad and general as the casing air :* 

But now, I am cabin’d, cribb’d, confined, bound 
inf 

2 sound 

To saucy 3 doubts and fears.—But Banquo’s safe? 
Mur. Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he 
bides, 

Hiolent 

With twenty trenched 4 gashes on his head, 

The least a death to nature. 

Macb. Thanks for that. 

[Aside.] There the grown serpent lies; the 

4 deep-cut 

worm 6 that’s fled 

Hath nature that in time will venom breed, 30 

No teeth for the present.—Get thee gone: to¬ 
morrow 

5 i.e. Fleance 

We ’ll hear ourselves 6 again. [Exit Murderer. 

Lady M. My royal lord, 

6 each other 

You do not give the cheer. 7 The feast is sold 

7 cheerful 

That is not often vouch’d, while ’tis a-making, 

’Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at 
home; 

From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; 
Meeting were bare without it.J ^ 

welcome 


*As absolutely free and unrestrained as is the surrounding air. 
fThese expressions are nearly, but not quite synonymous, each being a 
stronger word than the preceding, e.g. imprisoned, caged, bound in, enslaved 
to. 

JA feast to invited guests is no better than a meal that is had for payment 
if it is not often asserted during its progress that the guests are heartily wel¬ 
come. Mere feeding is best done at home: away from home, some forms of 
ceremony are required to give zest to the banquet. If these forms be absent, 
it is no feast at all. 







110 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


Macb. Sweet remembrancer! 

Now good digestion wait on appetite, 

And health on both! 

Len. v May’t please your highness sit? 
[Enter the Ghost of Banquo, and sits in Macbeth’s 
place.] 

Macb. Here had we now our country’s 
honour roof’d,* 40 

Were the graced 1 person of our Banquo present; 

Who may I rather challenge for 2 unkindness 
Than pity for mischancep 

Ross. His absence, sir, 

Lays blame upon his promise. Please ’t your 
highness 

To grace* us with your royal company? 

Macb. The table’s full. 

Len. Here is a place reserved, sir. 

Macb. Where? 

Len. Here, my good lord. What is’t that 
moves your highness? 

Macb. Which of you have done this? 

Lords. What, my good lord? 

Macb. Thou canst not say I did it: never 

shake 50 

Thy gory locks at me. 

Ross. Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. 
Lady M. Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often 
thus, 

And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep 
seat; 

The fit is momentary: upon a thought 5 
He will again be well: if much you note 8 him, 

You shall offend him, and extend his passion: 

Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? 

Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on 
that 


1 gracious 
2 whom I hope I 
may rather 
accuse of 
3 on account of 
any acci¬ 
dent 
*favor 


Hn an instant 
8 notice 


Which might appal the devil. 
Lady M. 


0 proper stuff! 7 60 


7 a fine tale 


*We should now have under this roof all the distinguished persons who 
are an honor to our country. 





Scene TV] 


MACBETH 


111 


This is the very 1 painting of your fear: 

This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, 

Led you to Duncan. 0, these flaws 2 and starts , 2 
Impostors to 3 true fear, would well become 
A woman’s story at a winter’s fire, 

Authorised by her grandam. Shame itself! 

Why do you make such faces? When all’s done, 
You look but on a stool. 

Mach. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! 
how say you? 

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak 

too. 70 

If charnel-houses , 4 and our graves, must send 
Those that we bury back, our monuments 
Shall be the maws of kites. 6 [Ghost vanishes. 

Lady M. What, quite unmann’d in folly? 
Mach. If I stand here, I saw him. 

Lady M. Fie, for shame! 

Mach. Blood hath been shed ere now, i’ the 
olden time, 

Ere human statute purged the gentle weal; 6 
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform’d 
Too terrible for the ear :^£he time has been, 

That, when the brains were out, the man would 

die, 80 

And there an end; but now they rise again, 

With twenty mortal murders 7 on their crowns, 

And push us from our stools | this is more strange 
Than such a murder is. 

Lady M. My worthy lord, 

Your noble friends do lack 8 you. 

Mach . I do forget. 

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends; 

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing 
To those that know me. Come, love and health 
to all; 

Then I’ll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full. 

I drink to the general joy o’ the whole table, 90 
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; 
Would he were here! to all and him we thirst, 


1 merely the 

z gusts (of 
fear). See 
V. i. 50 

3 compared with 


Horribs 


6 we shall he 
food for the 
stomach of 
kites , which 


will become 
our monu¬ 
ments 

purified so¬ 
ciety and 
made it 


7 fatal wounds. 
Cf. 1. 27 


8 miss 






112 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


And all 1 to all. 

Lords. Our duties, and the pledge. 

Re-enter Ghost. 

Mach. Avaunt! 2 and quit my sight! Let the 
earth hide thee! 

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; 

Thou hast no speculation 3 in those eyes 
Which thou dost glare with. 

Lady M. Think of this, good peers, 

But as a thing of custom: ’tis no other;* 

Only it spoils the pleasure of the time 

Mach. What man dare, I dare: 100 

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, 

The arm'd 6 rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; 

Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves 6 
Shall never tremble: or, be alive again, 

And dare 1 me to the desert with thy sword; 

If trembling I inhabit then,* protest 8 me 
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! 
Unreal mockery, hence! [Ghost vanishes.] 

Why, so; being gone, 

I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. 

Lady M. You have displaced 9 the mirth, 
broke the good meeting 110 

With most admired 10 disorder. 

Mach. Can such things be, 

And overcome 11 us like a summer’s cloud, 

Without our special wonder? You make me 
strangef 

Even to the disposition that I owe 12 

When now I think you can behold such sights, 

And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, 

When mine is blanch’d with fear. 

Ross. What sights, my lord? 


*If I then remain trembling, taking “inhabit” = dwell 
then put on a trembling, taking “inhabit” = to take as a 
costume or a custom). 

fYou make me a stranger to (hence, wonder at) my 
you make me regard my own nature as abnormal. 


1 all good 
wishes 


2 away 


% power of 
sight 

4 nothing else 


6 armored — 
referring to 
its hide 
6 sinews 
7 challenge 
8 declare 


9 dispelled 

10 wonder-rais - 
ing 

n come over 


12 possess 


, remain; or, If I 
habit (whether a 

own nature; i.e. 






Scene IV] 


MACBETH 


113 


Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows 
worse and worse; 

Question enrages him: At once, good night: 
Stand not upon 1 the order of your going 120 
But go at once. 

Len. Goodnight; and better health 

Attend his majesty! 

Lady M . A kind good night to all! 

[Exeunt all but Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. 


'be 


not par¬ 
ticular 
about 


/ Mach. It will have blood: they say blood 
' will have blood: 

Stones have been known to move, and trees to 
speak; 

Augures* and understood relations have 


By maggot-pies 2 and choughs 3 and rooks brought 
forth 

secret ’st man of blood.* What is the night? 

Lady. M. Almost at odds with morning, which 
is which. 

Mach. How say’st thou, that Macduff 
denies his person 
At our great bidding? 

Lady M. Did you send to him, sir? 130 

Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send. 
There’s not a one of them but in his house 
I keep a servant fee ’d . 4 I will 6 to-morrow, 

And betimes I will, to the weird sisters: 

More shall they speak; for now I am bent to 
know, 

By the worst means, the worst. 6 For mine own 
good 7 

All causes shall give way: I am 8 in blood 
Stepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more, 
Returning were as tedious as go o’er.* 

Strange things I have in head that will to hand, 140 
Which must be acted ere they may be scann’d. 


2 magpies 
3 jackdaws 


Hn my pay 
6 sc. go 


6 sc. news 

7 to my interests 

a have 

9 as to go on to 
the end 


*The science of divination (“Augures”) and a proper understanding of 
the relation existing between signs and the events they refer to (“understood * 
relations”) have, by means of magpies, jackdaws, and rooks, brought to light 
murderers whose deeds have been done with the utmost secrecy. 











114 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


Lady M. You lack the season of 1 all natures, 
sleep. 

Mach. Come, we’ll to sleep. My strange 
and self-abuse 

Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use:* 

We are yet but young in deed. [Exeunt. 


Hhat which 
preserves 


Scene V. A Heath. 

Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting 
Hecate. 

1 Witch. Why, how now, Hecate! you look 
angerly. 

Hec. Have I not reason, beldams 2 as you are, 
Saucy and overbold? How did you dare 
To trade and traffic with Macbeth 
In riddles and affairs of death; 

And I, the mistress of your charms, 

The close contriver 3 of all harms, 

Was never call’d to bear my part, 

Or show the glory of our art? 

And, which 4 is worse, all you have done 10 

Hath been but for a wayward son, 5 
Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do, 

Loves for his own ends, not for you. 

But make amends now get you gone, 

And at the pit of Acheron 6 
Meet me i’ the morning: thither he 
Will come to know his destiny. 

Your vessels and your spells provide, 

Your charms and everything beside. 

I am for the air; this night I’ll spend 20 

Unto a dismal and a fatal end: 

Great business must be wrought ere noon: 

Upon the corner of the moon 
There hangs a vaporous drop profound ; 7 
I ’ll catch it ere it come to ground: 


2 hags 


3 secret schemer 


*what 

5 Macbeth 


c some gloomy 
spot. See 
Note III. v. 
15 


7 a low-hanging 
drop of va¬ 
por 


*The strange manner in which I have allowed myself to be deceived is 
the result of fear, such as is felt by a beginner in crime, whose qualms will 
pass away as he becomes hardened in wickedness. 






Scene VI] 


MACBETH 


115 


And that, distill’d by magic sleights 1 
Shall raise such artificial 2 sprites 
As, by the strength of their illusion ,* 

Shall draw him on to his confusion.* 

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear 30 
His hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear: 

And you all know, security 5 
Is mortals’ chiefest enemy. 

[Music and a Song , within: “Come away, come 

away,” etc. 

Hark! I am call’d: my little spirit , 6 see, 

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. [Exit. 

1 Witch. Come, let’s make haste; she ’ll soon 
be back again. [ Exeunt. 


1 arts 
brought 

forth by art 
8 deceptive ap¬ 
pearance 
4 destruction 

*over-confi- 
dence, care¬ 
lessness 


8 familiar . See 
Note I. i. 8 


Scene VI. Forres. The Palace. 


Enter Lennox and another Lord. 


Len. My former speeches have but hit your 
thoughts, 

Which can interpret further : 7 only, I say, 

Things have been strangely home* The gra¬ 
cious Duncan 

Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead: 9 
And the right-valiant Banquo walk’d too late; 
Whom, you may say, if’t please you^Fleance 
kill’d, 

For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late. 
Who cannot want the thought, 10 how monstrous 11 
It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain 
To kill their gracious father? damned fact! 19 10 
How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight, 

In pious rage, the two delinquents tear, 

That were the slaves of drink and thralls 13 of sleep? 
Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; 
For ’twould have anger’d any heart alive 
To hear the men deny’t. So that, I say, 

He has borne 14 all things well: and I do think, 
That, had he Duncan’s sons under his key,— 


7 suggest other 
instances 
8 carried on 

9 i.e. when 
M acbeth 
pitied him 


10 can any one 
help think¬ 
ing 

^inhuman 
12 deed, crime ; 

L. factum 
13 slaves 


u managed 







116 


MACBETH 


[Act III 


As, an ’t please heaven, he shall not, 1 —they 
should find 

What ’twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. 20 
But, peace! for from broad words, 2 and ’cause he 
fail’d 

His presence at the tyrant’s feast, I hear 
Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell 
Where he bestows himself? 

Lord. The son of Duncan 

From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, 3 
Lives in the English court, and is received 
Of the most pious Edward 4 with such grace 
That the malevolence 5 of fortune nothing 
Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff 
Is gone to pray the holy king, upon 6 his aid 30 
To wake’ 1 Northumberland and warlike Siward; 
That, by help of these, with Him above 
To ratify the work, we may again 
Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, 

Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, 
Do faithful 8 homage and receive free honours : 9 
All which w'e pine for now: and this report 
Hath so exasperate the king, that he 
Prepares for some attempt of war. 

Len. Sent he to Macduff? 

Lord. He did: and with an absolute “Sir, 
not I, ” 40 

The cloudy 10 messenger turns me 11 his back, 

And hums, as who should say, “You’ll rue the 
time 

That clogs 12 me with this answer. ” 

Len. And that well might 

Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance 
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel 
Fly to the court of England, and unfold 
His message ere he come, that a swift blessing 
May soon return to this our suffering country 13 
Under a hand accursed! 

Lord. I ’ll send my prayers with him. 

[Exeunt. 


1 sc. have 


2 on account of 
some free 
speaking 


Hs keeping his 
rightful 
inheritance 
4 i.e. the Con¬ 
fessor 
5 enmity 
3 to come to 
bouse 


8 legitimate 
(i.e, to the 
rightful 
king) 

9 the honors 
due to free 
men 


10 sullen 
n ethic dative 


12 hurdens 


13 country 
suffering 





Scene Ij 


MACBETH 


117 


ACT IV. 

Scene I. A Cavern. In the middle a boiling 
Cauldron. 

Thunder. Enter the three Witches. 

1 Witch. Thrice the brinded 1 cat hath mew’d. 

2 Witch. Thrice and once 2 the hedge-p^ 3 

whined. 

3 Witch. Harpier cries, “’Tis time, , tis time.” 

1 Witch. Round about the cauldron go; 

In the poison’d entrails throw. 

Toad, that under cold 4 stone 
Days and nights has thirty one 
Swelter ’d s venom, sleeping got, 

Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot. 

All. Double , double 6 toil and trouble: 10 

Fire burn and cauldron bubble. 

2 Witch. Fillet 1 of a fenny snake, 

In the cauldron boil and bake; 

Eye of newt and toe of frog, 

Wool 8 of bat and tongue of dog, 

Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s 9 sting, 

Lizard’s leg and howlet’s 10 wing, 

For a charm of powerful trouble, 

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. 

All. Double, double toil and trouble; 20 

Fire burn and cauldron bubble. 

3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, 

Witches mummy , u maw and gulf 12 

Of the ravin’d 13 salt-sea shark, 

Root of hemlock digg’d i ’ the dark, 

Liver of blaspheming Jew, 

Gall of goat, and slips of yew 
Sliver’d 14 in the moon’s eclipse, 

Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips, 


l brindled, i.e. 
marked like 
a tiger 

2 observe the odd 
numbers 
3 hog 

4 dissyllable 
5 exuded 
Het us double 
7 slice 


s down, soft 
feathers 
9 slow-worm 
10 young owl 


n dried carcass 
12 stomach and 
gullet 
13 ravenous 


14 stripped off 






118 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


Finger of birth-strangled babe 
Make the gruel thick and slab: 1 
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron , 2 
For the ingredients of our cauldron. 

All. Double, double toil and trouble; 

Fire burn and cauldron bubble. 

2 Witch. Cool it with a b&boon’s blood, 
Then the charm is firm and good. 

Enter Hecate to the other three Witches. 


30 


l slimy 
2 entrails 


Hec. 0, well done! I commend your pains* 
And every one shall share i ’ the gains. 

And now about the cauldron sing, 40 

Like elves and fairies in a ring, 

Enchanting all that you put in. 

[Music and a Song , “Black spirits, ” etc. 


[Hecate retired. 

2 Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs, \ 
Something wicked this way comes: [Knocking. \ 

Open, locks, 

"Whoever knocks! 


Enter Macbeth. 


Mach. How now, you secret, black, and mid¬ 
night hags! 

What is ’t you do? 

All. A deed without a name. 

Mach. I conjure you, by that which you pro¬ 
fess, 

Howe ’er you come to know it, answer me: 

Though you untie the winds, and let them fight 

Against the churches; though the yesty 3 waves 

Confound 4 and swallow navigation 5 up; 

Though bladed corn 6 be lodged, 7 and trees blown 
down; 

Though castles topple on their warders’ heads; 

Though palaces, and pyramids do slope 

Their heads to their foundations; though the 
treasure 


50 


3 foaming, 
seething 
4 destroy 
5 abstract for 
concrete 
6 grain in the 
blade; un¬ 
ripe grain 
7 laid low or flat 





MACBETH 


119 


Scene I] 


Of nature’s germens 1 tumble all together, 

Even till destruction sicken;* answer me 
To what I ask you. 

1 Witch. Speak. 

2 Witch. Demand. 

3 Witch. We’ll answer. 60 

1 Witch. Say, if thou ’dst rather hear it from 

our mouths, 

Or from our masters? 

Mach. Call ’em; let me see ’em. 

1 Witch. Pour in sow’s blood, that hath eaten 
Her nine farrow, 2 grease that’s sweaten 3 
From the murderer’s gibbet throw 
Into the flame. 

All. Come, high or low; 

Thyself and office deftly show! 


1 germs , buds, or 
shoots 


Hitter of nine 
fallen in 
sweat 


Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head.* 

Mach. Tell me, thou unknown power,— 

1 Witch. He knows thy thought: 

Hear his speech, but say thou nought. 70 

1 App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! be¬ 
ware Macduff; 

Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me: enough. 

[Descends. 

Mach. Whate ’er thou art, for thy good caution 
thanks: 

Though hast harp ’d 5 my fear aright. But one 
word more.— 

1 Witch. He will not be commanded. Here’s 

another, 

More potent than the first. 

Thunder. Second Apparition: a Bloody Child* 

2 App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! 

Mach. Had I three ears, I ’Id hear thee. 

2 App. Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh 
to scorn 


Symbolical of 
Macbeth 
himself. 

See stage 
directions, 
V. viii. 53 


Houched 


8 symbolizing 
Macduff. 
See V. viii. 
16 


^Though the precious seeds (or elements) from which all life springs be 
hopelessly destroyed, so that even destruction itself grows weary of its work. 









120 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


The power of man, for none of woman born 80 
Shall harm Macbeth. [Descends. 

Mach. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear 
of thee? 

But yet I ’ll make assurance double sure, 

And take a bond 1 of 2 fate:* thou shalt not live; 1 pledge , 

That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, security 

And sleep in spite of thunder. f rom 


Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, 3 
with a tree in his hand. 

What is this, 

That rises like the issue* of a king; 

And wears upon his baby-brow the round 
And top 5 of sovereignty? 

All. Listen, but speak not to ’t. 

3 App. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no 

care 90 

Who chafes, who frets, 6 or where conspirers are: 
Macbeth shall never vanquish’d be, until 
Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane hill 
Shall come against him. [Descends. 

Macb. That will never be: 

Who can impress’ the forest, bid the tree 
Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements!* 
good! 

Rebellion’s head, rise never, till the wood 
Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth 
Shall live the lease of nature, 9 pay his breath 10 
To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart 100 
Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art 
Can tell so much: shall Banquo’s issue ever 
Reign in this kingdom? 

All. Seek to know no more. 

Macb. I will be satisfied: deny me this, 


Representing 
the future 
king Mal¬ 
colm 

4 offspring 

s crown and its 
ornaments 


Rages 


7 press into ser¬ 
vice, enroll 
by force 
8 predictions 


9 natural term 
of years 
10 life 


*The meaning is: ‘T have been assured that none of woman born shall 
harm me. Therefore I need fear no man. But I will not let this assurance 
suffice. In order that I may be doubly secured I will make fate (or destiny) 
give me a bond (which is stronger than an assurance).” 

The murder of Macduff would be a security taken from fate pledging 
the fulfilment of its assurance. 






Scene I] 


MACBETH 


121 


And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. 
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? 

[Hautboys. 

1 Witch. Show! 

2 Witch. Show! 

3 Witch. Show! 

All. Show his eyes and grieve his heart; 110 
Come like shadows, so depart! 

A show 1 of eight Kings , 2 the last with a glass 3 in his 
hand; Banquo’s Ghost following. 

Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Ban- 
quo; down! 

Thy crown does sear 4 mine eye-balls. And thy hair, 
Thou other gold-bound 5 brow, is like the first. 

A third is like the former. Filthy hags! 

Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, 6 eyes! 
What! will the line stretch out to the crack of 
doom 7 

Another yet! A seventh! I’ll see no more: 

And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass, 3 
Which shows me many more; and some I see 120 
That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:* 
Horrible sight! Now I see ’tis true; 

For the blood-bolter ’d Banquo s smiles upon me, 

And points at them for his. [Apparitions vanish. 
What! is this so? 

1 Witch. Ay sir, all this is so: but why 
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? 

Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, 

And show the best of our delights : 9 
I ’ll charm the air to give a sound, 

While you perform your antic round, 130 

That this great king may kindly say, 

Our duties did his welcome pay. 10 

[Music. The Witches dance , and then vanish, 

with Hecate. 

Macb. Where are they? Gone? Let this 
pernicious 11 hour 


1 procession 
2 Scotch kings, 
ancestors of 
James /, 
King of 
England 
3 mirror 
4 burn, scorch 
5 crowned 
Heap from 
your sockets 


7 judgment-day 


s Banquo with 
his hair 
matted with 
thick blood 


9 our best diver¬ 
sions or 
games 


10 we have given 
him a 
respectful 
welcome 


n deadly 


*See Note IV. i. 121, p. 158. 






122 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


Stand aye accursed in the calendar! 

Come in, without there! 

Enter Lennox. 

Len. What’s your grace’s will? 

Mach. Saw you the weird sisters? 

Len. No, my lord. 

Macb. Came they not by you? 

Len. No indeed, my lord. 


Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride; 1 

’see Introduc¬ 

And damn ’d all those that trust them! I did hear 

The galloping of horse: who was ’t came by? 140 
Len. ’Tis two or three, my lord, that bring 
you word, 

Macduff is fled to England. 

Macb. Fled to England! 

Len. Ay, my good lord. 

tion, p. 34 

Macb. [Aside.] Time, thou anticipates# my 
dread exploits: 

tprevente&t 

The flighty 3 purpose never is o ’ertook, 

Unless the deed go with it: from this moment 

The very firstlings 4 of my heart shall be 

3 fleeting 

The firstlings* of my hand.* And even now, 

To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought 

*first-fruit 

and 5 done: 

h no sooner 

The castle of Macduff I will surprise; 150 

Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o’ the sword 

His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls 

thought than 

That trace him in his line. 6 No boasting like a 

6 carry on. his 

fool; 

line of de¬ 

This deed I ’ll do before this purpose cool: N 

But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen? \ 
Come, bring me where they are. [Exeunt. J 

Scene II. Fife. Macduff’s Castle. 

Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross. 

Lady M. What had he done, to make him 
fly the land? 

scent 


*I.e. Action shall accompany thought. 







Scene II] 


MACBETH 


123 


Ross. You must have patience, madam. 

Lady M. He had none: 

His flight was madness: when our actions do not, 
Our fears do make us traitors. 

Rqss. ' You know not 

Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. 

Lady M. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave 
his babes, 

His mansion, and his titles , l in a place 

From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; 

He wants the natural touch; 2 for the poor wren, 

The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 10 

Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. 

All is the fear and nothing is the love;* 

As little is the wisdom, where the flight 
So runs against all reason. 

Ross . My dearest coz, 

I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, 
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows 
The fits o’ the season. 3 I dare not speak much 
further; 

But cruel are the times, when we are traitors 
And do not know ourselves; when we hold 4 
rumour 

From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, 20 
But float upon a wild and violent sea 
Each way and move. 5 f I take my leave of you: 
Shall not be long but I ’ll be here again: 

Things at the worst 6 will cease, or else climb up¬ 
ward 

To what they were before. My pretty cousin, 
Blessing upon you! 


1 possessions 


Hnstincts of 
nature 


Hnterprets the 
sudden and 
violent dis¬ 
orders of 
the times 
Accept 


5 movement 


Howest 


*Fear (with Macduff) is everything, while love counts for nothing. 
Subsequent events and the further unfolding of Macduff’s character will show 
that he is here unjustly censured by his wife, who misjudges his motives. 

fThe meaning of these lines appears to be: “We are traitors without 
knowing ourselves to be such (as Macduff was unwittingly a traitor to his 
wife); our fears suggest rumors to us for which we have no grounds (as Lady 
Macduff’s did), and yet our very fears are vague and undefined and chop and 
change, as a spar floats this way and that upon the waves of a wild and violent 
sea.” 








124 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


Lady M. Father’d he is, and yet he’s father¬ 
less. 

Ross. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, 
It would be my disgrace 1 and your discomfort: 

I take my leave at once. [Exit. 

Lady M. Sirrah, your father’s dead: 30 

And what will you do now? How will you live? 

Son. As birds do, mother. 

Lady M. What, with 2 worms and flies? 

Son. With 2 what I get, I mean; and so do 
they. 

Lady M. Poor bird! thou ’ldst never fear the 
net nor lime, 3 
The pit-fall nor the gin . 4 

Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds 
they are not set for. 5 

My father is not dead, for all your saying. 

Lady M. Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do 
for a father? 

Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? 

Lady M. Why, I can buy me twenty at any 
market. 40 

Son. Then you ’ll buy ’em to sell again. 

Lady M. Thou speak ’st with all thy wit, and 
yet, i’ faith, 

With wit enough for thee. 

Son. Was my father a traitor, mother? 

Lady M. Ay, that he was. 5 

Son. What is a traitor? 

Lady M. Why, one that swears and lies. 7 

Son. And be all traitors that do so? 

Lady M. Every one that does so is a traitor, 
and must be hanged. 50 

Son. And must they all be hanged that swear 
and lie? 

Lady M. Every one. 

Son. Who must hang them? 

Lady M. Why, the honest men. 

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools; 
for there are liars and swearers enough 
to beat the honest men, and hang up them. 


4. e. 7 should 
weep 


2 on 


3 bird-lime 

Hrap 

5 trapped 


5 meaning, of 
course, a 
traitor to 
herself 
7 t'akes and 
breaks the 
oath of alle¬ 
giance 





Scene II] 


MACBETH 


125 


Lady M. Now God help thee, poor monkey! 1 term of en- 

But how wilt thou do for a father? 60 dearment 
Son.. If he were dead, you’Id weep for him: 
if you would not, it were a good sign that 
I should quickly have, a new father. 

Lady M. Poor prattler, how thou talk’st! 

Enter a Messenger. 


Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to 
you- known, 

Though in your state of honour I am perfect.* 

I doubt* some danger does approach you nearly: 

If you will take a homely man’s advice, 

Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. 

To fright you thus, methinks I am too savage; 70 
To do worse 3 to you were fell* cruelty, 

Which 5 is too nigh your person. Heaven pre¬ 
serve you! 

I dare abide no longer. [Exit. 

Lady M. Whither should I fly? 

I have done no harm. But I remember now 
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm 
Is often laudable; to do good sometime 
Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas! 

Do I put up that womanly 6 defence, 

To say I have done no harm? What are these 
faces? 

Enter Murderers. 

1 Mur. Where is your husband? 80 

Lady M. I hope, in no place so unsanctified 
Where such as thou mayst find him. 

1 Mur. He’s a traitor. 

Son. Thou liest, thou shag-hair’d 7 villain! 

1 Mur. What, you egg! 

[Stabbing him. 

Young fry* of treachery! 

Son. He has kill’d me, mother: 

Run away, I pray you. [Dies. 


2 fear 


Hess, i.e. by not 
telling you 
your danger 
^frightful 
5 i.e. cruelty is 
already 


fl feminine 


7 shaggy 


* spawn, off¬ 
spring. See 
Glossary 


’‘Though I am perfectly acquainted with your honorable rank. 







126 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


[Exit Lady Macduff, crying “Murder!” 
and pursued by the Murderers. 


Scene III. England. Before the King’s Palace. 
Enter Malcolm and Macduff. 


Mai. Let us seek out some desolate shade, 
and there 

Weep our sad bosoms empty. 

Macd. Let us rather 

Hold fast the mortal 1 sword, and like good 2 men 
Bestride 3 our down-fall ’n birthdom. Each new 
morn 

New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows 
Strike heaven on the face, that 4 it resounds 
As if it felt with Scotland and yell’d out 
Like syllable of dolour . 5 

Mai. What I believe, I ’ll wail, 6 

What know, believe; and what I can redress, 

As I shall find the time to friend, I will. 

What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. 
This tyrant, whose sole 7 name blisters our 
tongues, 

Was once thought honest; you have loved him 
well; 

He hath not touch’d you yet. I am young; 
but something 

You may deserve of him through me, and wis¬ 
dom 6 

To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb 
To appease an angry god. 

Macd. I am not treacherous. 

Mai. But Macbeth is. 

A good and virtuous nature may recoil 9 
In an imperial charge. 16 But I shall crave your 
pardon: 

That which you are my thoughts cannot trans- 
pose :* 


1 death-dealing 

2 brave 

3 stand up in 
defense of 

4 cry aloud to 
heaven so 
that 

6 cry of pain 

6 bewail 


10 


''mere 


8 sc. it may be 


9 swerve from 
the right 


20 


10 the execution 
of a king's 
command 


*I.e. My suspicions cannot make you bad if you are good, nor can my 
thoughts make you good if you are bad. Transpose here means “alter.’' 







Scene III] 


MACBETH 


127 


Angels are bright still, though the brightest 1 fell: 
Though all things foul would wear the brows of 
grace,* 

Yet grace 2 must still look so. 3 
Macd. I have lost my hopes. 

Mai. Perchance even there where I did find 
my doubts.f 

Why in that rawness 4 left you wife and child, 
Those precious motives , 5 those strong knots of 
love, 

Without leave-taking? I pray you, 

Let not my jealousies be your dishonours , 6 
But mine own safeties. You may be rightly 

just, 30 

Whatever I shall think. 

Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country! 

Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, 

For goodness dare not check thee: wear thou 
thy wrongs; 

The title is affeer’d! 7 Fare thee well, lord: 

I would not be the villain that thou think ’st 
For the whole space that’s in the tyrant’s grasp, 
And the rich East to boot. 9 

Mai. Be not offended: 

I speak not as in absolute fear of you. 

I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; 

It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash 40 
Is added to her wounds: I think withal 
There would be hands uplifted in my right; 

And here, from gracious England 9 have I offer 
Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, 

When I shall tread upon the tyrant’s head, 

Or wear 19 it on my sword, yet my poor country 
Shall have more vices than it had before, 


x i.e. Lucifer 


2 virtue } excel¬ 
lence 
3 lhe same 


A hurry , haste 
^impulses to 
love 


8 suspicions im¬ 
pute dis¬ 
honorable 
motives 


7 thy title to 
them is es¬ 
tablished 

Hn addition 


9 i.e. the King 
of England 


10 bear, carry 


*Even if everything that is ugly and base were to assume the beautiful 
exterior proper to virtue, yet virtue herself must still remain unchanged in 
appearance. For the sentiment implied, cf. I. iv. 11:— 

There’s no art, 

To find the mind’s construction in the face, 
f I.e. Perhaps by finding that I received you with suspicion. 








128 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, 

By 1 him that shall succeed. 

Macd. What should he be? 

Mai. It is myself I mean; in whom I know 50 
All the particulars 2 of vice so grafted, 

That, when they shall be open ’ d , 3 black Macbeth 
Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state 
Esteem him as a lamb, being compared 
With my confineless harms.* 

Macd. Not in the legions 

Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn’d 
In evils, to top 6 Macbeth. 

Mai. I grant him bloody, 

Luxurious , 6 avaricious, false, deceitful, 

Sudden , 7 malicious, smacking of every sin 
That has a name: but there’s no bottom, none, 60 
In my voluptuousness; better Macbeth, 

Than such a one to reign. 

Macd. Boundless intemperance 

In nature is a tyranny;* it hath been 
The untimely emptying of the happy throne 
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet 
To take upon you what is yours : s you may 
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, 

And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood¬ 
wink. 

Mai. With this, there grows 
In my most ill-composed affection 9 such 70 

A staunchless avarice that, were I king, 

I should cut off the nobles for their lands, 

Desire his w jewels, and this other’s house: 

And my more-having would be as a sauce 
To make me hunger more, that 11 I should forge 
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, 
Destroying them for wealth. 

Macd. This avarice 

Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root 
Than summer-seeming 12 lust; and it hath been 


1 through , at 
the hands 

of 

2 particular 
forms 
3 come to 
blossom 

Hnfinite wick¬ 
edness 


5 surpass 

6 unchaste 
''violent 


8 i.e. the 
sovereignty 


9 wrongly con¬ 
stituted na¬ 
ture 

10 one man’s 
n $o that 


12 short-lived (as 
a summer) 


*The unrestrained indulgence of one’s natural passions is a usurpation; 
i.e. it usurps the place of the will and the intelligence. 






Scene III] 


MACBETH 


129 


The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear; 80 
Scotland hath foisons 1 to fill up your will, 

Of your mere own; all these are portable , 2 
With other graces weigh’d. 

Mai. But I have none: the king-becoming 
graces, 

As justice, verity, temperance , 3 stableness, 

Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, 

Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, 

I have no relish 4 of them, but abound 
In the division of each several crime,* 

Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I 

should 90 

Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,f 
Uproar 5 the universal peace, confound 
All unity on earth. 

Macd . 0 Scotland, Scotland! 

Mai. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: 

I am as I have spoken. 

Macd. Fit to govern! 

No, not to live. O nation miserable, 

With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter’d, 

When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again, 
Since that the truest issue of thy throne 
By his own interdiction 6 stands accursed, 100 
And does blaspheme his breedP Thy royal father 
Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore 
thee, 

Oftener upon her knees than on her feet, 

Died* every day she lived. Fare thee well! 

These evils thou repeat ’st upon 9 thyself 
Have banish’d me from Scotland. O my 
breast, 

Thy hope ends here! 

Mai. Macduff, this noble passion, 

Child of 10 integrity, hath from my soul 
Wiped the black scruples, 11 reconciled my 
thoughts 


l rich harvests 
2 endurable 


3 self-restraint 


4 flavor , touch 


5 stir up to 
tumult 


*self-condem- 

nation 

7 slanders his 
own race 


8 i.e. prepared 
to die 
9 recitest 
against 


10 born of 
n suspicions 


^Practice freely every crime in all its variations. 

f I.e. Banish from the earth the gentle influence of peace and harmony. 







130 


MACBETH 


[Act IY 


To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Mac¬ 
beth 110 

By many of these trains 1 hath sought to win me 
Into his power, and modest wisdom 2 plucks me 
From over-credulous haste: but God above 
Deal between thee and me! for even now 
I put myself to thy direction, and 
Unspeak mine own detraction, 3 here abjure 
The taints and blames I laid upon myself, 

For 4 strangers to my nature. I am pure, 

Scarcely have coveted what was mine own, 

At no time broke my faith, would not betray 120 
The devil to his fellow, and delight 
No less in truth than life: my first false speaking 
Was this upon myself: what I am truly, 

Is thine and my poor country’s, to command: 
Whither indeed, before thy here-approach, 

Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men 
Already at a point 3 was setting forth. 

Now we ’ll together; and the chance of goodness 
Be like our warranted quarrel!* Why are you 
silent? 

Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things 
at once 130 

’Tis hard to reconcile. 

Enter a Doctor. 


1 artifices 

2 sober 

'prudence 


3 charges 

against my¬ 
self 
*as 


* fully prepared 


Mai. Well; more anon. Comes the king 
forth, I pray you? 

Doct. Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched 
souls 

That stay 6 his cure: their malady convinces 7 
The great assay of art; 3 but at his touch, 

Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand, 
They presently 9 amend. 

Mai. I thank you, doctor. [Exit Doctor. 
Macd. What’s the disease he means? 

Mai. ’Tis call’d the evil; 13 

A most miraculous work in this good king; 


*await 

7 beats, baffles 
3 efforts of great 
medical 
skill 
9 at once 


10 i.e. King’s 
evil. See Note 
IV. iii. 138 


May our chance of success equal the justness of our cause! 





Scene III] 


MACBETH 


131 


Which often, since my here-remain in England, 140 
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, 
Himself best knows: but strangely-visited 1 people, 

All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, 

The mere despair of surgery, he cures, 

Hanging a golden stamp 2 about their necks, 

Put on with holy prayers: and ’tis spoken, 

To the succeeding royalty he leaves 
The healing benediction . 3 With this strange 
virtue, 

He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy, 

And sundry blessings hang about his throne, 150 
That speak 4 him full of grace. 

Enter Ross. 

Macd. See, who comes here? 

Mai. My countryman; but yet I know him 
not. 

Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. 
Mai. I know him now. Good God, betimes 
remove 

The means that makes us strangers! 

Ross. Sir, amen. 

Macd. Stands Scotland where it did? 

Ross. Alas, poor country! 

Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot 
Be call’d our mother, but our grave; where 
nothing, 

But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; 
Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend 

the air 160 

Are made, not mark'd ; 5 where violent sorrow 
seems 

A modern ecstasy ; 6 the dead man’s knell 
Is there scarce ask’d for who; and good men’s 
lives 

Expire before the flowers in their caps, 

Dying or ere 7 they sicken. 

Macd. 0, relation 8 

Too race, 9 and yet too true! 


*i.e. afflicted 
with strange 
diseases 

2 a gold coin (as 
a charm) 

3 blessed gift of 
healing 


4 bespeak 


5 noticed 


6 an every-day 
excitement 
of the mind 

7 before 
8 report , 
narrative 
Habored , 
minute 








132 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


Mai. What’s the newest grief? 

Ross. That of an hour’s age doth hiss 1 the 
speaker; 

Each minute teems 2 a new one. 

Macd. How does my wife? 

Ross. Why, well. 

Macd. And all my children? 

Ross. Well, too. 

Macd. The tyrant has not batter’d at 3 their 
peace? 170 

Ross. No; they were well at peace, when I 
did leave ’em. 

Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how 
goes ’t? 

Ross. When I came hither to transport the 
tidings, 

Which I have heavily 4 borne, there ran a rumour 
Of many worthy fellows that were out; 3 
Which was to my belief witness’d the rather, 

For that I saw the tyrant’s power a-foot. 

Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland 
Would create soldiers, make our women fight, 

To doff 3 their dire distresses. 

Mai. Be’t their comfort 180 

We are coming thither. Gracious England hath 
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men; 

An older and a better soldier none 
That Christendom gives out. 1 

Ross. Would I could answer 

This comfort with the like! But I have words 
That would 8 be howl’d out in the desert air, 

Where hearing should not latch 9 them. 

Macd. What concern they? 

The general cause? or is it a fee-grief 
Due to some single breast? 10 

Ross. No mind that’s honest 

But in it shares some woe, though the main part 190 
Pertains to you alone. 

Macd. If it be mine 

Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. 


1 cause to be 
hissed 

2 brings forth 


Attacked 


*with heavy 
heart 

3 up in arms 


*do-ojf, be 
rid of 


1 has to show 


6 ought to 
°catch 


10 i.e. a grief 
that has a 
particular 
owner; a 
personal 
sorrow. 

See Note 
IV. iii. 188 






Scene III] 


MACBETH 


133 


Ross. Let not your ears despise my tongue 
for ever, 

Which shall possess them with 1 the heaviest sound 
That ever yet they heard. 

Macd. Hum! I guess at it. 

Ross. Your castle is surprised; your wife and 
babes 

Savagely slaughter’d: to relate the manner, 

Were, on the quarry 2 of these murder’d deer 
To add the death of you.* 

Mai. Merciful Heaven! 

What, man! ne’er pull your hat upon your 

brows; 200 

Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak 
Whispers the o’er-fraught 3 heart and bids it 
break. 

Macd./ My children too? 

Ross. Wife, children, servants, all 

That could be found. 

Macd. And I must be from thence! 

My wife kill’d too? 

Ross. I have said. 

Mai. Be comforted: 

Let’s make us* medicines of 6 our great revenge, 

To cure this deadly grief. 

Macd. He 6 has no children. All my pretty 
ones? 

Did you say, all? O hell-kite! All? 

What, all my pretty chickens and their dam 210 
At one fell swoop? 

Mai. Dispute it 7 like a man. 

Macd. I shall do so. 

But I must also feel it as a man: 

I cannot but remember such things were, 

That were most precious to me. Did Heaven 
look on, 

And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, 

*The meaning is: “To tell you the particulars of their 
to add your death to theirs and so increase the number of th< 
is a play on the word “deer, ” which, while meaning literally “ 
also “dear ones.” 


x put them in 
possession 


2 heap (of dead 
bodies ) 


^over-charged 


*for ourselves 
5 out of 
6 Malcolm 


1 battle with 
your grief 


death would be 
i slain. ” There 
game,” implies 










134 


MACBETH 


[Act IV 


They were all struck/or 1 thee! naught that I am, 

Not for their own demerits , 2 but for mine, 

Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them 
now! 

Mai. Be this the whetstone of your sword: 
let grief 220 

Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. 

Macd. 0,1 could play the woman with mine 
eyes 

And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle 
heavens, 

Cut short all intermission ; 3 front to front 
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; 
Within my sword’s length set him. If he ’scape, 
Heaven forgive him too! 

Mai. This tune goes manly. 

Come, go we to the king; our power* is ready; 

Our lack is nothing but our leave.* Macbeth 
Is ripe for shaking , 5 and the powers above 230 
Put on their instruments.! Receive what cheer 6 
you may: 

The night is long that never finds the day. 

[Exeunt. 


*Nothing is lacking but that we should take our leave. 
fHeaven is now setting to work its ministers of vengeam 
Macduff, and their army). 


l on account of 
2 faults 


3 delay 


*army 

5 i.e. ready to 
fall (like 
ripe fruit) 
8 encourage¬ 
ment 


{i.e. Malcolm, 







Scene I] 


MACBETH 


135 


ACT V. 


Scene I. Dunsinane. Ante-room in the Castle. 


Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman. 


Doct. I have two nights watched with you, 
but can perceive no truth in your report. When 
was it she last walked? 

Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I 
have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night¬ 
gown 1 upon her, unlock her closet, take forth 
paper, fold it, write upon T, read it, afterwards 
seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this 
while in a most fast sleep. 

Doct. A great perturbation 2 in nature, to 10 
receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the 
effects of watching . 3 In this slumbery agita¬ 
tion, besides her walking and other actual per¬ 
formances, what, at any time, have you heard 
her say? 

Gent. That, sir, which I will not report 
after her. 

Doct. You may, to me; and ’t is most meet 
you should. 

Gent. Neither to you nor any one, having no 20 
witness to confirm my speech. Lo you, here 
she comes! 


1 dressing-gown 


2 confusion 


3 perform the 
actions of 
one who is 
awake 


Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper. 

This is her very guise p and, upon my life, fast 
asleep. Observe her; stand close . 6 
Doct. How came she by that light? 

Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by 
her continually; ’tis her command. 


4 custom , way 
6 i.e. keep out 
of sight 








136 


MACBETH 


[Act V 


Doct. You see, her eyes are open. 

Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut. 1 

Dod. What is it she does now? Look, how 30 
she rubs her hands. 

Gent. It is an accustomed? action with her, to 
seem thus washing her hands: I have known her 
continue in this a quarter of an hour. 

Lady M. Yet here’s a spot. 

Dod. Hark! she speaks: I will set down what 
comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the 
more strongly. 

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!— 
One: two: why, then’tis time to do’t.—Hell is 40 
murky!—Fie,my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? 
What need we fear who knows it, when none can 
c;all our power to account?—Yet who would 
have thought the old man to have had so much 
blood in him? 

Doct. Do you mark that? 

Lady M. The thane of Fife 3 had a wife: 
where is she now?—What, will these hands ne ’er 
be clean?—No more o’ that my lord, no more o’ 
that: you mar all with this starting? 50 

Bod. Go to, go to; you have known what 
you should not. 

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I 
am sure of that: heaven knows what she has 
known. 

Lady M. Here’s the smell of the blood still: 
all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this 
little hand. Oh . . oh . . oh! 

Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is 
sorely charged. 6 60 

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my 
bosom for the dignity of the whole body? 

Doct. Well, well, well,— 

Gent. Pray God it be, 7 sir. 

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: 
yet I have known those which have walked in 
their sleep,,who have died holily in their beds. 

Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your 


Hhe sense of 
sight is 
excluded 

2 customary 


S M acduff 


4 see III. iv. 

63 


6 oppressed with 
a sore 
weight 

6 all the honors 
that are 
rendered to 
her 

7 sc. well 







Scene II] 


MACBETH 


137 


nightgown; x look not so pale.—I tell you yet 
again, Banquo ’s buried; he cannot come out on 70 
’s grave. 

Doct. Even so? 

Lady M. To bed, to bed: there ’s knocking 
at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me 
your hand:—What ’& done cannot be undone. 

To bed, to bed, to bed! [Exit. 

Doct. Will she go now to bed? 

Gent. Directly. 

Doct. Foul whisperings 2 are abroad, un¬ 
natural deeds 

Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds 80 
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets: 
More needs she the divine than the physician. 
God, God forgive us all! Look after her; 

Remove from her the means of all annoyance , 3 
And still* keep eyes upon her. So, good night: 

My mind she has mated* and amazed my sight. 

I think, but dare not speak. 

Gent. Good night, good doctor. 

[Exeunt. 


dressing- 

gown 


humors 


3 all means 
injuring 
herself 
Constantly 
Confounded , 
amazed 


of 


Scene II. The Country near Dunsinane. 


Drums and colours. Enter Menteith, Caithness, 
Angus, Lennox, and Soldiers. 


Ment. The English power 6 is near, led on by 
Malcolm, 

His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff: 
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes 
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm 
Excite the mortified man.* 

Ang. Near Birnam wood 


*force, army 


♦The causes that are near their hearts would drive a dead man (figura¬ 
tively) to deeds of blood and horror. The “alarm” is the call or summons 
to take up arms. Editors generally take “mortified” to mean “dead to ordi¬ 
nary feelings, or to the concerns of the world.” 








138 


MACBETH 


[Act V 


Shall we well meet them; that way are they 
coming. 

Caith. Who knows if Donalbain be with his 
brother? 

Len. For certain sir, he is not. I have a file 1 
Of all the gentry: 2 there is Siward’s son, 

And many unrough 3 youths that even now 10 
Protest their first of 4 manhood. 

Ment. What does the tyrant? 

Caith. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies. 
Some say he’s mad; others, that lesser hate him, 

Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain, 

He cannot buckle his distemper’d cause 
Within the belt of rule.* 

Ang. Now does he feel 

His secret murders sticking on his hands; 6 
Now minutely 6 revolts upbraid his faith-breach 
Those he commands move only in command, 
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title 20 
Hang loose 8 about him, like a giant’s robe 
Upon a dwarfish thief. 

Ment . Who then shall blame 

His pester’d 9 senses to recoil and start, 

When all that is within him does condemn 
Itself for being there? 

Caith. Well, march we on, 

To give obedience where ’tis truly owed: 

Meet we the medicine 10 of the sickly weal, 

And with him pour we in our country’s purge 11 
Each drop of us. 

Len. Or so much as it needs 

To dew 12 the sovereign flower 13 and drown the weeds. 
Make we our march towards Birnam. 31 

[Exeunt , marching. 

Scene III. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. 

Enter Macbeth, Doctor , and Attendants. 
Mach. Bring me no more reports; let them 
_fly all:_ 

♦Maintain authority over his disorganized followers. 


Hist 

2 nobility 
3 unbearded 
*give the first 
proof of 
their 


6 clinging close 
to him 

*every minute 
7 violated faith, 
treason to 
his king 
? cf. 1. 17 


9 harassed 


30 physician , 
healer 
( Malcolm ) 
n to purge our 
country {of 
the tyrant) 
n bedew 

u Malcolm, the 
supreme 
healer and 
sovereign of 
the country 






Scene III] 


MACBETH 


139 


Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, 

I cannot taint 1 with fear. What ’s the boy 
Malcolm? 

Was he not born of woman? The spirits that 
know 

All mortal consequences 2 have pronounced me 
thus: 

“Fear not, Macbeth; no man that ’a born of 
woman 

Shall e’er have power upon thee.” Then fly, 
false thanes, 

And mingle with the English epicures : 3 

The mind I sway by* and the heart I bear, 

Shall never sag 6 with doubt nor shake with fear. 

Enter a Servant. 


l be infected 


2 everything that 
will happen 
to mortals 


10 


Huxury-loving 
English 
Hhat guides my 
actions 
h droop 


Where gott ’st thou that goose look, thou cream¬ 
faced loon? 6 

Serv. There is ten thousand— 

Macb. Geese, villain? 

Serv. Soldiers, sir. 

Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy 
fear, 

Thou lily-livered 7 boy. What soldiers, patch?* 
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine 
Are counsellors to 9 fear. What soldiers, whey- 
face? 

Serv. The English force, so please you. 

Macb . Take thy face hence. [Exit Servant. 
Seyton!—I am sick at heart, 

When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push 10 
Will cheer me ever , or disseat me now. 11 20 

I have lived long enough: my way of life 
Is fall ’n into the sear, 12 the yellow leaf; 

And that w r hich should accompany old age, 

As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, 

I must not look to have; but, in their stead, 
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour , 13 
breath, 


°rogue 


7 bloodless , 
cowardly 
*clown, fool 
9 suggest 


w attack 
11 will be deci¬ 
sive one 
way or the 
other 

12 dry. Cf. the 
phrase “au¬ 
tumn of 
life” 

13 i.e. speeches 
not from 
the heart 





140 


MACBETH 


[Act V 


Which the poor heart would fain 1 deny, and 
dare not. 

Seyton! 

Enter Seyton. 


1 gladly 


Sey. What’s your gracious pleasure? 

Macb. What news more? 

Sey. All is confirm’d, my lord, which was 
reported. 30 

Macb. I ’ll fight till from my bones my flesh 
be hack’d. 

Give me my armour. 

Sey. ’Tis not needed yet. 

Macb. I’ll put it on. 

Send out moe 2 horses; skirr 3 the country round; 
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine 
armour. 

How does your patient, doctor? 

Doct. Not so sick, my lord, 

As she is troubled with thick-coming 4 fancies 
That keep her from her rest. 

Macb. Cure her of that. 

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, 

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, 40 
Raze out the written troubles of the brain, 

And with some sweet oblivious 6 antidote 
Cleanse the stuff’d 6 bosom of that perilous stuff 
Which weighs upon the heart? 

Doct. Therein the patient 

Must minister to himself. 

Macb. Throw physic to the dogs, I ’ll none of 
it. 

Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff. 
Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from 
me. 

Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, 
cast 

The water of 7 my land, find her 8 disease, 50 

And purge it to a sound and 'pristine 9 health, 

I would applaud thee to the very echo, 

That should applaud again. Pull’t off , 10 I say. 


2 more 
3 scour 


4 i.e. that come 
crowding 
upon her 


8 causing for¬ 
getfulness 
6 charged, over¬ 
burdened 


''examine 
medically 
8 i.e. Scotland's 
9 L. pristinus, 
former 

10 i.e. his armor. 
See 11. 32-5 





Scene IV] 


MACBETH 


141 


What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, 
Would scour these English hence? Hear’st 
thou of them? 

Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal prepara¬ 
tion 

Makes us hear something. 

Macb. Bring it after me. 

I will not be afraid of death and bane, 1 

Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. [Exit. 

Doct. [Aside.] Were I from Dunsinane away 
and clear, 60 

Profit again should hardly draw me here. 

[Exeunt. 


Scene IV. Country near Birnam Wood. 

Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, Old Si ward 
and his Son, Macduff, Menteith, Caithness, 
Angus, Lennox, Ross, and Soldiers, marching . 

Mai. Cousins, I hope the days are near at 
hand 

That chambers 2 will be safe. 

Ment. We doubt it nothing. 

Siw. What wood is this before us? 

Ment. The wood of Birnam. 

Mai. Let every soldier hew him down a 
bough 

And bear't before him: thereby shall we shadow 3 
The numbers of our host, and make discovery 4 
Err in report of us. 

Sold . It shall be done. 

Siw . We learn no _/ther but the confident 
tyrant 

Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure 
Our setting down before ’t. s 

Mai. ’Tis his main hope: 10 

For where there is advantage to be 6 given 
Both more and less 7 have given him the revolt, 

And none serve with him but constrained things 8 


1 destruction 


2 our homes 


3 conceal 
4 i.e. the scouts 
sent to dis¬ 
cover our 
position 
and strength 

6 suffer us to lay 
siege to it 
*any opportu¬ 
nity is 

1 high and low 
8 such as have 
been forced 
into service 





142 


MACBETH 


[Act V 


Whose hearts are absent too. 

Macd. Let our just censures 

Attend the true event, and put we on 
Industrious soldiership.* 

Sivj. The time approaches 

That will with due decision 1 make us know 
What we shall say we have 2 and what we owe. 3 
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, 
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:! 20 
Towards which advance the war. 

[Exeunt , marching. 


'proper degree 
of definite¬ 
ness 

2 sc. gained 
3 have lost 


Scene V. Dunsinane. Within the Castle. 

Enter , with drum and colours, Macbeth, Seyton, 
and Soldiers. 

Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward 
walls. 

The cry is still, “They come:” our castle’s 
strength 

Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie 

Till famine and the ague eat them up: 

Were they not forced' with those that should be 
ours, 

We might have met them dareful , 5 beard to 
beard, 

And beat them backward home. [A cry of 
women within.] What is that noise? 

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. 

[Exit. 

Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears. 

The time has been, my senses would have cool } d 6 10 

To hear a night-shriek; and my fell 7 of hair 

Would at a dismal treatise 8 rouse and stir 9 


4 reinforced (by 
deserters 
from us) 

5 boldly 


e 7 should have 
shuddered 
7 head 
*story 

9 nse and stand 


*We must await the final issue of events (“true event”) before we can 
express our opinions with certainty (“just censures”), and meanwhile let us 
make all proper military preparations (“put on industrious soldiership”). 

fConjectures (“thoughts speculative”), deal with uncertainties: we may 
hope but we cannot be sure of anything. The actual result can be decided 
only by blows. 








Scene V] 


MACBETH 


143 


As 1 life were in ’t. I have supp’d full with 
horrors: 

Direness, 2 familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, 
Cannot once start me. 

Re-enter Seyton. 

Wherefore was that cry? 
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. 

Mach. She should have died hereafter ; 3 * 

There would have been a time for such a word. 
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 

Creeps 4 in this petty pace 5 from day to day, 20 
To the last syllable of recorded time; 6 
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! 
Life *s but a walking shadow, a poor player, 

That struts and frets 1 his hour upon the stage, 

And then is heard no more: it is a tale 
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 

Signifying nothing. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story 
quickly. 

Mess. Gracious my lord, 30 

I should report that which I say I saw, 

But know not how to do it. 

Mach. Well, say, sir. 

Mess. As I did stand my watch 8 upon the hill, 

I look’d toward Birnam, and anon, methought, 

The wood began to move. 

Mach . Liar and slave! 

Mess. Let me endure your wrath if ’t be not 
so: 

Within this three mile may you see it coming; 

I say, a moving grove. 

Mach. If thou speak ’st false, 

Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive 


1 as if 
2 horror 


3 a later time 
would have 
been more 
fitting 
*creep 

5 slowly and 
unregarded 
Hime of which 
a record 
may be kept 
7 strides theatri¬ 
cally and 
rages 


s was on guard 


*See p. 178 on which this passage is paraphrased. 







144 


MACBETH 


[Act V 


Till famine cling thee: 1 if thy speech be sooth, 2 40 
I care not if thou dost for me as much. 

I pull in resolution , z and begin 
To doubt the equivocation 4 of the fiend 
That lies like truth: “ Fear not, till Birnam wood 
Do come to Dunsinane;” and now a wood 
Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and 
out! 

If this which he avouches does appear 5 , 

There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. 

I ’gin to be aweary of the sun, 

And wish the estate o’ the world 6 were now un¬ 
done. 50 

Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, 
wrack! 7 

At least we ’ll die with harness on our back. 

[Exeunt. 


Scene VI. Dunsinane. A Plain before the Castle. 

Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, Old Siward, 
Macduff, etc., and their Army, with boughs. 

Mai. Now, near enough: your leavy 8 screens 
throw down, 

And show like those you are. 9 You, worthy 
uncle, 

Shall, with my cousin, your right noble son, 

Lead our first battle: 10 worthy Macduff and we 

Shall take upon’s what else remains to do, 

According to our order. 11 

Siw. Fare you well. 

Do we 12 but find the tyrant’s power to-night, 

Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. 

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give 
them all breath, 

Those clamorous harbingers 13 of blood and 10 
death. [Exeunt. Alarums continued. 


1 shrivel thee up 
Hruth 

Hein in, or 
check, my 
strong con¬ 
fidence 
4 suspect the 
ambiguous 
language 
Hs seen to be 
true 


°frame of the 
universe. 

Cf. III. ii. 
16 

7 wreck, ruin 


Heafy 

9 yourselves in 
your true 
form 

10 division, army 
corps 

u plan, arrange¬ 
ment 

12 if we 


13 messengers 





Scene YII] 


MACBETH 


145 


Scene VII. Another Part of the Field. 


Alarums. Enter Macbeth. 

Mach. They have tied me to a stake; I can¬ 
not fly, 

But, bear-like, I must fight the course. 1 What’s 
he 

That was not born of woman? Such a one 
Am I to fear, or none. 


1 attack. See 
Note V. vii. 
1 


Enter Young Siward. 


Yo. Siw. What is thy name? 

Mach. Thou ’It be afraid to hear it. 

Yo. Siw. No; though thou call’st thyself a 
hotter name 
Than any is in hell. 

Mach. My name’s Macbeth. 

Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pro¬ 
nounce a title 
More hateful to mine ear. 

Mach. No, nor more fearful. 

Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with 
my sword 10 

I ’ll prove the lie thou speak ’ st 2 

[They fight , and Young Siward is slain. 
Mach. Thou wast born of woman. 

But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, 
Brandish’d by man that’s of a woman born. 

[Exit. 


2 what thou 
speakest to 
be a lie 


Alarums. Enter Macduff. 


Macd. That way the noise is. Tyrant, show 
thy face! 

If thou be ’st slain, and with no stroke of mine, 
My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still. 3 
I cannot strike at wretched kerns* whose arms 
Are hired to bear their staves : 6 either thou, 6 
Macbeth, 

Or else my sword, with an unbatter’d edge, 


3 ever 

Hnfantry 
Hances 
6 sc. it must 
be 






146 


MACBETH 


[Act V 


I sheathe again undeeded. 1 There thou 20 
shouldst be; 

By this great clatter, one of greatest note 
Seems bruited. 2 Let me find him, fortune! 

And more I beg not. [Exit. Alarums. 

Enter Malcolm and Old Siward. 

Siw. This way, my lord; the castle’s gently 
render 7 d : 3 

The tyrant’s people on both sides do fight; 

The noble thanes do bravely in the war; 

The day almost itself professes yours, 

And little is to do. 

Mai. We have met with foes 
That strike beside us. A 

Siw. Enter, sir, the castle. 

[Exeunt. Alarums. 


Scene VIII. Another Part of the Field. 
Enter Macbeth. 

Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, 
and die 

On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, 6 the 
gashes 

Do better 6 upon them. 

Enter Macduff. 

Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn! 

Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee: 
But get thee back; my soul is too much charged 
With blood of thine already. 

Macd. I have no words; 

My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain 
Than terms can give thee out! 1 [They fight. 

Macb. Thou losest labour: 

As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air 

With thy keen sword impress,as make me bleed: 10 


1 unused , hav¬ 

ing done no 
deed 

9 announced 


3 surrendered 
without re¬ 
sistance 


4 i.e. purposely 
miss us 


Hiving beings 

6 would do 
better 
inflicted 


1 express 






Scene YIII] 


MACBETH 


147 


Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; 1 
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield 
To one of woman born. 

Macd. Despair* thy charm; 

And let the angel, whom thou still 3 hast served, 

Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb 
Untimely 4 ripp’d. 

Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me 
so, 

For it hath cow’d my better part of man! 

And be these juggling fiends no more believed, 
That palter 6 with us in a double sense; 20 

That keep the word of promise to our ear, 

And break it to our hope. I ’ll not fight with 
thee. 

Macd. Then yield thee, coward, 

And live to be the show and gaze o’ the time: 6 
We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, 

Painted 7 upon a pole, and underwrit, 

“ Here may you see the Tyrant. ” 

Macb. I will not yield, 

To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet 
And to be baited with the rabble’s curse. 

Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, 30 
And thou opposed, being of no woman born, 

Yet I will try the last: 8 before my body 
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff, 

And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, 
enough!” 

[Exeunt , fighting. Alarums. 

Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter , with drum and colours. 
Malcolm, Old Siward, Ross, Thanes and Soldiers. 

Mai. I would the friends we miss were safe 9 
arrived. 

Siw. Some must go off; 10 and yet, by these I 
see, 

So great a day as this is cheaply bought. 

Mai. Macduff is missing, and your noble son. 
Ross. Y our son, my Lord, has paid a soldier’s 
debt: 


1 heads 


2 cease to trust 
*always 

before the nat¬ 
ural time 


5 equivocate 


6 a popular 
show and 
exhibition 
7 painted and 
hung 


s make a last 
effort 


9 safely 

10 i.e. be lost or 
killed 





148 


MACBETH 


[Act V 


He only lived but till he was a man; 40 

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm ’d l 
In the unshrinking station 2 where he fought, 

But like a man he died. 

Siw. Then he is dead? 

Ross. Ay, and brought off the field. Your 
cause of sorrow 

Must not be measured by his worth, for then 
It hath 3 no end. 

Siw. Had he his hurts before? 

Ross. Ay, on the front. 

Siw. Why then, God’s soldier be he! 
Had I as many sons as I have hairs, 

I would not wish them to a fairer death: 

And so, his knell is knoll ’d. 4 

Mai. He ’s worth more sorrow, 50 

And that I’ll spend for him. 

Siw. He’s worth no more: 

They say, he parted 5 well and paid his score:* 

And so God be with him! Here comes newer 
comfort. 


1 courage 
proved 

2 position from 
which he 
did not 
shrink 


3 would have 


Holled 


*died 
*deht (to 
nature) 


Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth’s head. 


Macd. Hail, King! for so thou art; behold, 
where stands 

The usurper’s cursed head: the time is free: 7 
I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl 3 
That speak my salutation in their minds;* 

Whose voices I desire aloud with mine: 

Hail, King of Scotland! 

All. Hail, King of Scotland! 

[Flourish. 

Mai. We shall not spend a large expense of 
time, 60 

Before we reckon with your several loves, 

And make us even with you. My thanes and 
kinsmen, 

Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland 


7 day of free¬ 
dom has re¬ 
turned 

8 choicest orna¬ 
ment, i.e. 
the high 
nobility 




*Who are speaking in their minds the congratulations to which I now give 
utterance. 







Scene VIII] 


MACBETH 


149 


In such an honour named. What ’s more to do, 1 
Which would be planted newly with the time,* 

As 2 calling home our exiled friends abroad, 

That fled the snares of watchful 3 tyranny; 

Producing forth the cruel ministers 

Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen, 

Who, as Tis thought, by self and violent hands 70 
Took off her life; this, and what needful else 
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace 
We will perform in measure , 4 time, and place: 

So, thanks to all at once and to each one, 

Whom we invite to see us crown’d at Scone. 

[Flourish. Exeunt. 


Ho be done 
2 for example 
3 spying 


4 proper degree 


*Which we ought now to set to work upon at the beginning of this new 




















/ 














NOTES 

Act I. Scene I 

1* Three Witches. The First Witch, personifying the Past, salutes 
Macbeth as Thane of Glainis; the Second, personifying the Present, hails 
him as Thane of Cawdor; and the Third, who alone seems able to 
discern the Future, salutes him as the one “that shalt be king here¬ 
after.’’ (See Introduction, p. 31, “On Witches and Witchcraft.”) 

8. Graymalkin. The name of a cat; the attendant demon of the 
First Witch. Such spirits were supposed to accompany sorceresses to en¬ 
able them to perform wonderful feats. 

9. Paddock. The name of a toad; the attendant of the Second 
Witch. 

10. Fair is foul. Coleridge says of the witches: “They are the 
shadowy, obscure, and fearfully anomalous of physical nature, the lawless 
of human nature—elemental avengers without sex or kin.” 

Act I. Scene II 

3. The sergeant. A sergeant was originally a person of higher rank 
and social position than is now the case. 

12. The Western Isles. These are the islands to the west of Scot¬ 
land, now generally known as the Hebrides. 

23. Cousin. According to traditional history Duncan and Macbeth 
were cousins. Shakespeare, however, uses this term loosely for any 
grade of relationship outside of one’s immediate family. 

29. Skipping kerns. The epithet is appropriate to light-armed infan¬ 
try; it contains suggestions also of their cowardice. 

36. Cracks. Explosions, reports. 

39. Golgotha. The mount on which our Lord was put to death. Lit¬ 
erally, the “place of a skull.” 

47. Fife. A maritime county of Scotland, forming the peninsula be¬ 
tween the Firths of Forth and Tay. 

49. Norway. In this line, and in I. iii. 112, Norway stands for the 
King of Norway. See under Sweno, 1. 58. 

52. Cawdor. A small village in Scotland, situated between Inver¬ 
ness and Forres. 


151 




152 


MACBETH 


53. Bellona. (“ War-goddess”), Sister of Mars, upon whom she 
attended. She was a murderous war-goddess, and was worshipped in 
Rome, Pontus, and Cappadocia. 

58. Sweno. King of Denmark and Norway, and father of Harold, 
Sweno, and Canute. He conquered the realm of England and after driv¬ 
ing Ethelred into Normandy, placed his own son Harold on the throne. 

60. Saint Colme’s Inch. This island of St. Columba lies in the Firth 
of Forth, a little to the east of Queensferry. 

62. Thane of Cawdor. In Holinshed the Thane of Cawdor was con¬ 
demned for treason after Macbeth’s meeting with the Witches. 

Act I. Scene III 

2. Killing Swine. Witches were frequently charged with causing the 
death of swine and cattle, by casting an evil eye upon them. 

7. Aleppo. A city of Asiatic Turkey; the emporium of North Syria, 
on the river Koeik, in a plain sixty miles southeast of Alexandretta. Pre¬ 
vious to the great earthquake of 1822 Aleppo contained about one hun¬ 
dred mosques, and was the center of a great import and export trade. 
It fell into the possession of the Turks in 1517. 

7. Tiger. The name of a vessel. 

17. Shipman’s card. Either the navigator’s chart or the com¬ 
pass card on which the 32 points are marked. 

24. Cannot be lost. See Introduction, p. 34, H 2 and seq. 

38. So foul, etc. The resemblance between this line, and line 11 of 
Scene I is intentional, and suggests a connection between Macbeth’s soul 
and the souls of the Witches, between the tempted and the tempters. 

39. Forres. A town in the county of Nairn. Forres Castle was the 
residence of the early Scottish kings. 

67. Get kings. Beget kings. 

71. Sinel. Thane of Glamis, husband of Doada, and father of Mac¬ 
beth. 

72. The Thane of Cawdor lives. Reference is often made to the 
seeming contradiction between this statement and that contained in 
Sc. ii., 62-66. This inconsistency is regard by many commentators 
as proof that Sc. ii., or at least part of it was not the work of Shakes¬ 
peare. But the inconsistency is apparent rather than real; for Shakes¬ 
peare does not state in the earlier scene that Cawdor was actually present 
at the battle, nor is there anything in previous statements tending to 
show that Macbeth was at this time aware of the treason of Cawdor or 
of his condemnation. 







NOTES 


153 


128. Two truths are told. “Every word of his soliloquy” says Cole¬ 
ridge, “shows the early birth of his guilt. He is all-powerful, without 
strength; he wishes the end but is irresolute as to the means; conscience 
distinctly warns him, and he lulls it imperfectly.” 

129. Prologues. The function of the prologue is to give the audience 
a clearer understanding of the succeeding drama or some of its acts. 
Thus Macbeth speaks of the two truths which the Witches have al¬ 
ready told him as introductions to the more splendid drama, which has 
for its subject the gaining of a kingdom. 

141. Single state of man. For the sentiment conveyed in these lines, 
Cf. Julius C(Esar II. i. 67. Single, undivided, united, simple, like the Latin 
simplex. Single state of mind, then—humanity or manhood regarded as a 
compact whole—as contrasted with the disordered state of man in whom 
“function is smother’d in surmise.” So long as Macbeth’s “state of 
man” is “single,” his blood and judgment are properly commingled. 
Others take “single” to mean feeble, and “state of man” to be “the 
body politic of man.” Another rendering of the phrase is “the kingdom 
of myself.” 

Act I. Scene IV 

145. Without my stir. Macbeth does not long remain in this state 
of mind. 

11. There’s no art. An example of dramatic irony. Duncan unwit¬ 
tingly applies to the Thane of Cawdor words which the audience natur¬ 
ally transfers to the hero. 

39. Cumberland. The extreme northwestern county of England. It 
first became a portion of England in the reign of William II, and was 
formed by the addition of a portion of the old English kingdom of York¬ 
shire to the southern part of the old British kingdom of Strathclyde. 

42. Inverness. The capital of the county of the same name, and 
chief town in the Highlands of Scotland. Boece makes Inverness the 
scene of Duncan’s murder. Macbeth’s castle was at Inverness on “an 
eminence called the Crown—so called from having been a royal seat.” 
“The whole of the vicinity,” says Anderson, “is rich in wild imagery,” 
and answers well to the description of the scene given in I. vi. 

Act I. Scene V 

1. They met me. Note that this letter was written by Macbeth 
after the battle and his meeting with the Witches, but before his inter¬ 
view with the king. From this we may conclude that he was in constant 
communication and close sympathy with his wife. 



154 


MACBETH 


31. Doth seem. Lady Macbeth regards the crown as already ob¬ 
tained. 

40. The raven. In the prophecies of the ancient soothsayers, the cry 
of the raven was infallibly regarded as an indication of approaching 
death. 

70. My dispatch. Lady Macbeth proposes to commit the murder 
herself. 

72. Solely sovereign sway. The figure alliteration. 

Act I. Scene VI 

31. By your leave. Duncan here politely offers to conduct Lady 
Macbeth into the castle. 


Act I. Scene YII 

20. Taking off. To shun the use of the term “murder ,’ 1 Macbeth 
and Lady Macbeth employ this mild expression. 

22. Cherubim. (Hebrew plural of “cherub”.) In the folios the 
obsolete plural “cherubin” is used. 

43. A coward. Lady Macbeth makes a successful appeal to her 
husband's courage and manhood. 

48. Break this enterprise. From this it is evident that Macbeth, 
not his wife, first suggested the assassination. 

55. Sticking-place. Steevens suggests that the metaphor is taken 
“from the screwing-up the chords of string instruments to their proper 
degree of tension, when the peg remains fast in its sticking-place, i. e. in 
the place from which it is not to move . 11 

Act II. Scene I 

16. Shut up. 1. Is wrapped up in; or 2, has concluded or summed 
up all he has to say in expressing his measureless content. 

52. Hecate. The name of the queen or mistress of the Witches. In 
classical mythology she was originally a moon-goddess, representing the 
moon in its invisible phases. She was supposed to preside over all noc¬ 
turnal horrors, to haunt tombs and cross-roads in company with the spirits 
of the dead, and to send nightly phantoms from the lower world. 

55. Tarquin. Tarquinius Sextus, son of Tarquinius Superbus, the 
last of the legendary kings of Borne. 

58. The very stones. Cf. St. Luke XIX-.40: “The stones will cry 
out .' 1 Shakespeare probably alludes to this passage. 




NOTES 


155 


Act II. Scene II 

3. The fatal bellman. The Clarendon Press* editors have pointed out 
that it was customary for the bellman to visit condemned persons on the 
eve of their execution. 

59. Neptune. In Roman mythology, the god of the sea, who came to 
be identified by the Romans themselves with the Greek Poseidon, whose 
attributes were transferred by the poets to the ancient Eoman deity. 


Act II. Scene III 

5. Beelzebub. (“God of flies.”) A god of the Philistines who had 
a famous temple at Ekron. In the New Testament, the prince of evil 
spirits. 

15. English tailor. In the Elizabethan Age, it was common for 
poets to satirize the English practice of imitating foreign fashions. 

17. Roast your goose. A goose, a tailor’s flatiron, so called from the 
resemblance of its handle to the neck of a goose. 

20. Devil-porter. Acting as porter to the devil. Observe the un¬ 
conscious irony. 

22. The primrose way. The broad way that leads to destruction. 

40. The night has been unruly. “That danger, death, or preter¬ 
natural occurrences should be preceded by warnings or intimations, would 
appear conformable to the idea of a superintending providence, and 
therefore faith in such omens has been indulged in by almost every 
nation. ’ ’— Drake, f 

54. The Lord’s anointed temple. This is a metaphor. 

58. Gorgon. In Greek legend a daughter of Phorcys and Ceto, 
dwelling in the Western Ocean near Night and Hesperides (or in Libya). 

60. Ring the alarum-bell. A natural means for bringing in at once 
the other characters and hurrying the scene forward. Lady Macbeth 
makes the mistake of coming upon the scene too quickly. This may sug¬ 
gest to the others the after thought that she was not asleep in bed at 
the time of the murder. Banquo has already told us that he has lately 
been struggling against the temptations that beset him in his sleep; 
hence, it is natural that he should speedily arrive upon the scene. Mal¬ 
colm and Donalbain, who occupy the chamber adjoining that of the king, 


* Clarendon Press. A printing establishment in Oxford, England, in which 
the university has the preponderating influence. It was founded partly with 
profits from the copyright of Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion. 
t See footnote, p. 25. 






156 


MACBETH 


are evidently asleep when the bell rings, and are the last to respond to 
its summons. 

104. Help me hence. There is no obvious reason for suspecting that 
Lady Macbeth’s swoon is not genuine. Macbeth in the excitement of 
the moment, and borne up by the necessity of acting, is able to paint 
the picture of Duncan with “his silver skin laced with golden blood,” 
and by his side the 11 murderers steep’d in the colours of their trade; ’ ’ 
but Lady Macbeth has reached the limit of her endurance. Her strength 
lies in her power to resist the horrible and painful thoughts that occa¬ 
sionally seek entrance to her mind; but when Macbeth sketches the 
gruesome picture of the murdered Duncan her strength gives way and 
she faints. 

Act II. Scene IV 

26. Stol’n away and fled. The flight of the king’s sons is one of the 
several incidents which contribute toward the success of Macbeth’s 
schemes during the first half of the play. 

31. Scone. The ancient royal city of Scotland. The place of corona¬ 
tion. The present Scone Palace, a modern building, is a seat of the Earl 
of Mansfield. 

33. Colme-kill. The word means “the cell or chapel of St. Columba, 
who landed on this island (better known as Iona) in 563 to preach 
Christianity. The Scottish kings were buried there. 

Act III. Scene I 

56. Caesar. Octavius Caesar, afterwards the Emperor Augustus. 

87. Are you so gospell’d. This seems to be a reference to the 
Sermon on the Mount. 

129. The perfect spy o’ the time. Some editors think that “perfect 
spy” refers to the Third Murderer who later joins the other two. Pref¬ 
erably, however, “perfect spy” means the result of “perfect spying or 
observation. ’ ’ 

Act III. Scene II 

38. Nature’s copy. Some editors take this to mean “man formed in 
the image of God;” but it is more likely to be simply an example 
of Shakespeare’s knowledge of legal phraseology. 

41. Black Hecate’s summons. See Note, III. v. 1. 

49. That great bond. “The bond by which Banquo and his son 
Fleance hold their tenure of life.” 

52. Good things. See the quotation from Professor Dowden, on p. 26. 





NOTES 


157 


Act III. Scene III 

Third Murderer. Some critics assert that this was Macbeth in dis¬ 
guise. It may be that he was suspicious of the two murderers, and to 
“make assurance double sure” of Banquo’s death, was present himself. 

7. Timely. (1) Soon attained; (2) welcome; or, (3) in time. 

Act III. Scene IV 

27. Twenty trenched gashes. Cf. the “twenty mortal murders” of 
line 82. Sherman takes this “unsightly mutilation” as evidence that the 
Third Murderer was Macbeth himself. 

Enter the ghost of Banquo and sits (stage dir.). Did Shakespeare 
intend that Banquo’s ghost should be exhibited to the audience? The 
point has long been doubted, some maintaining that the appearance of the 
ghost was necessary for stage effect; others claiming that no such ap¬ 
pearance would be required to influence the audience, so long as they 
perceived the effect of the apparition on Macbeth. 

102. Hyrcan. An adjective formed from Hyrcania, a region in Asia, 
which bordered on the Caspian Sea, and the Oxus. It corresponded in 
; part to northern and northeastern Persia. 

123. Blood will have blood. It was believed by many in Shake¬ 
speare’s time that a murdered body bled upon the approach or touch of 
the murderer. 

124. Trees to speak. Like the tree in Virgil’s Mneid, III, that bled 
and revealed to tineas the murderer of Polydorus. 

134. To the weird sisters. Macbeth’s seeking the Witches, who at 
first sought him, is a proof that he has fallen from grace. 

142. You lack. “In the moment of crisis Lady Macbeth had used 
roughness to rouse her husband; when the courtiers are gone she is all 
i tenderness. She utters not a word of reproach; perhaps she is herself 
exhausted by the strain she has gone through; more probably the 
| womanly solicitude for the physical sufferer thinks only how to procure 
i for her husband ‘the season of all natures, sleep.’ ”— Moulton* 

Act III. Scene V 

1. Hecate. Upon the introduction of Christianity into Greece, the 
old classical deities were lowered to the positions of demons. Hecate, 
who under the old system had reigned supreme in the nether regions, 


* See footnote, p. 44. 










158 


MACBETH 


under the new, was invested with a preeminently diabolic character, and 
so she came to be regarded as the patroness of sorcery and witchcraft. 

15. Acheron. In classical mythology, a river in Hades, and later, in 
the Lower World in general. 

Act III. Scene VI 

1. My former speeches. “Under the bitter irony of this speech,’’ 
says Moulton,* “we can see clearly enough that Macbeth has been ex¬ 
posed by a series of suspicious acts; he has done all things well; and in 
particular by peculiar resemblances between this last incident of Banquo 
and Fleance and the previous incident of Duncan and his son. It appears 
then that Macbeth’s last successful crime proves the means by which 
retribution overtakes all his other crimes; the latter half of the play is 
needed to develop the steps of the retribution, but, in substance, Mac¬ 
beth’s fall is latent in the final step of his rise.’’ 

27. Most pious Edward. From Holinshed we learn that “Saint 
Edward . . . received Malcolme by way of most friendlie entertain¬ 

ment. ’ ’ 

Act IV. Scene I 

3. Harpier. Very likely the term “Harpier” is a corruption of 
harpy, a monster of ancient mythology, with the face of a woman and 
the body of a bird of prey. In classical mythology the harpy symbolizes 
cruelty and deceit. 

16. Blind-worm’s sting. The belief still exists in many countries 
that the blind-worm is venomous. 

23. Mummy. At one time mummy was used for medicinal purposes. 

29. Tartar. A term usually applied to certain roving tribes which 
inhabited the steppes of Central Asia. 

93. Bimam. Birnam Hill, northeast of Perth, about twelve miles 
from Dunsinane. 

Dunsinane. One of the Sidlaw hills of Scotland, altitude 1,012 feet. 

Eight Kings. (Stage dir.) James I. of England and his ancestors. 

121. Two-fold balls and treble sceptres. The “two-fold balls’’ refer 
to King James’ double coronation, first at Stirling, and afterwards at 
Westminster. The “treble sceptres’’ symbolize the three kingdoms of 
England and Wales, Scotland, and Ireland (or possibly Great Britain, 
France, and Ireland). 

130. Antic round. According to Ben Jonson, the witches’ manner 
of dancing was: “They at their meetings do all things contrary to 


* See footnote, p. 44. 














NOTES 


159 


the custom of men, dancing back to back, and hip to hip, their hands 
joined, and making their circles backward, to the left hand, with strange 
fantastic motions of their heads and bodies.'’ 

Act IV. Scene II 

Macduff’s Castle. (Stage dir.) “On the Fifeshire Coast, about 
three miles from Dysart, stand two quadrangular towers, supposed to be 
the ruins of Macduff’s Castle.”— Knight* 

17. I dare not. Very likely Ross means that he dare not yet make 
known the plans of himself, Macduff, and others. 

Act IV. Scene III 

34. The title is affeer’d. The original text reads as follows: “The 
title is affear’d,” and the explanation of the passage, if this reading be 
accepted, will be, “Malcolm, personifying the regal title, is afeard,” i. e. 
afraid to claim what rightly belongs to him. 

128. Chance of goodness. Goodness here means “virtue.” 

138. The evil. Scrofula was formerly known in England as “King’s 
evil,” from the belief that the touch of a sovereign could effect a cure. 
Shakespeare may have found authority for the passage in Holinshed’s 
description of Edward the Confessor, who “was enspired with the 
gift of Prophecie,” and who “used to help those that were vexed with the 
disease commonly called the Kyng’s evill, and left that vertue as it were 
a portion of inheritance unto his successors the Kings of the Realme. ’ ’ 

145. A golden stamp. Heny VII. introduced the practice of pre¬ 
senting the person touched, with a small gold or silver coin, called a 
touch-piece. 

188. Fee-grief. In English law fee means an * 1 estate descendable to 
the heirs of the guarantee so long as there are any in existence.” Fee- 
grief is an estate which “belongs to the holder and to him alone.” 

208. He has no children. Many critics think that this refers to 
Macbeth, in which case Macduff is lamenting that he is unable to inflict 
punishment upon the tyrant which will be in proportion to his own 
suffering. But more probably these words are Macduff’s reply to Mal¬ 
colm’s speech immediately preceding. It is as though Macduff were to 
say, “It is easy for you who have no children, to talk of comfort and 
of curing this deadly grief.” 


* See footnote, p. 26. 







160 


MACBETH 


Act V. Scene I 

57. Arabia. A vast peninsula, southwest of Asia. It is famous for 
its many aromatic spices. 

65. This disease is beyond my practice. In the Middle Ages very 
little attention was paid to the treatment of insanity. It was not until 
about 1750 that the condition of the insane began to attract attention in 
England. 

Act V. Scene III 

8. Epicures. During the reign of James I. intemperance in eating 
and drinking was a characteristic of the English people. 

14. Patch. A clown: so called from his multi-colored, or motley 
dress. 

23. Old age. These lines contain the only suggestion conveyed by 
Shakespeare of any considerable lapse of time since the opening scene 
of the play. In Holinshed, Macbeth’s reign extended from A. D. 1040 to 
A. D. 1057. 

Act V. Scene IV 

18. Shall. The word has here no future significance, but is used out 
of courtesy to Malcolm, and has the sense of “may.” 

Act V. Scene V 

8. The cry of women. This is, of course, the cry made by the 
servants of Lady Macbeth, when they discover the death of the queen. 

17. She should have died hereafter. We are not to understand from 
this line and the next, that Macbeth has lost his love for his wife. But 
we should rather see in them an intimation of the feeling within him 
that his own death is approaching. “She could not live after his death, 
and his own ‘hour upon the stage’ is almost ended. But she might 
have waited for him.” 

Act V. Scene VI 

2. Worthy uncle. Siward, Earl of Northumberland. 

Act V. Scene VII 

1. Tied me to a stake. The metaphor is from the barbarous sport of 
bear baiting, a popular diversion in the time of Elizabeth. 

29. Strike beside us. This might mean “fight on our side,” refer¬ 
ring to the deserters from Macbeth’s army. 




NOTES 


161 


Act Y. Scene YIII 

1. The Roman fool. Cato, Brutus, Cassius, Antony, and many other 
characters in, or alluded to in Shakespeare’s Roman plays, died by their 
own hands. At certain periods in the history of Rome it was considered 
a virtue to avoid death or defeat by committing suicide. 

14. Angel. The word was at one time used in a bad as well as in 
a good sense. 

54. Hall, King! Holinshed relates that Macbeth "was slaine in 
yeere of the incarnation, 1057, and in the 16 yeare of King Edward’s 
reigne ower the Englishmen.” 



GRAMMATICAL NOTES 

On reading the works of Elizabethan authors we wonder at the many 
points of difference in grammar and meaning between their English and 
the English of today. Yet, there is really no cause for surprise. The great 
1 ‘ renascence ’ ’ had just taken place, and the ancient classics were being 
studied in England as they had never before been studied. Changes in 
structure and meaning in the language of Chaucer were demanded and 
introduced, but as old prejudices die hard the result for a time was chaos. 
Neither the devotees of the old forms nor the advocates of the new 
would give way, so both reigned, but neither was supreme. Language is 
given to interpret thought, and the result of the conflict between the old 
and the new was a language clear in thought but doubtful in expression. 
Such must be the conditions in all transitional periods. Hence, though the 
Elizabethan English differs in many respects from the English of today, it 
was and is intelligible. The change from the old forms through the Eliza¬ 
bethan English to our present forms was slow indeed, but changes that are 
to endure are not wrought in a generation. 

In this may be found the raison d’etre of the so-called grammatical 
difficulties of Shakespeare. Besides, in those days printed books were less 
common than they are now, and even today spoken language is frequently 
less grammatical than that which is written. 

Adjectives Used as Adverbs 

Duncan hath borne his faculties so meelc (I. vii. 17). Meekly. 

Who dares receive it other (I. vii. 70). Otherwise. 

Which else should free have wrought (II. i. 19). Freely. 

Which the false man does easy (II. iii. 123). Easily. 

Lest our old robes sit easier than our new (II. iv. 38). More easily. 

Things had begun make strong themselves by ill (III. ii. 55). Badly. 

But yet I’ll make assurance double sure (IY. i. 83). Doubly. 

As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air (V. viii. 9). Easily. 

I would the friends we miss were safe arrived (V. viii. 35). Safely. 

Adjectives Used as Nouns 

All that impedes thee from the golden round (I. v. 30). Crown. 

The blanket of the dark (I. v. 55). Darkness. 

162 


GEAMMATICAL NOTES 


163 


Those sleepy two (I. vii. 68). That sleepy pair. 

Against my near’st of life (III. i. 117). Inmost part. 

Protest their first of manhood (V. ii. 11). First proof. 

Adjectives Transposed 
That seems to speak things strange (I. ii. 46^. 

I have seen hours dreadful and things strange (II. iv. 2). 

To the direction just (III. iii. 4). 

Days and nights has thirty one (IV. i. 7). 

Gracious my lord (V. v. 30). 

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased (V. iii. 39), 

Double Comparative 

Lesser than Macbeth and greater (I. iii. 65). See V. ii. 13. 

Nouns and Pronouns Used as Adverbs 
That, trusted home (I. iii. 121). 

All-thing unbecoming (III. i. 13). 

Something from the palace (III. i. 131). 

We doubt it nothing (V. iv. 2). 

Beat them backward home (V. v. 7). 

Adverbs Used as Adjectives 
Before thy here-approach (IV. iii. 125). 

Since my here -remain in England (IV. iii. 140). 

Double Negative 

Nor must be known no less to have done so (I. iv. 31). 

Tongue, nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee (II. iii. 51). 

Who cannot want the thought (III. vi. 8). Want means “not have.” 

Omission of the Indefinite Article 
Surveying (an) vantage (I. ii. 30). 

Were (a) poor and single business (I. vi. 16). 

As if it . . . yell'd out like (a) syllable of dolour (IV. iii. 7). 

Here, from gracious England have I (an) offer (IV. iii. 43). 

Omission of the Definite Article 
Let us speak our free hearts each to (the) (I. iii. 156). 

Never shall (the) sun that morrow see (I. v. 63). 




164 


MACBETH 


We have lost (the) best half of our affair (III. iii. 22). 

I’ll catch it ere it come to (the) ground (III. v. 25) 

Insertion of the Indefinite Article 
Their drenched natures lie as in a death (I. vii. 63). 

There’s not a one of them (III. iv. 132). 

Omission of the Conjunction If 
As ’twere a careless trifle (I. iv. 11). 

Who, were’t so, would have informed (I. v. 34). 

As they had seen me with these hangman’s hands (II. ii. 27). 
Go not my horse the better (III. i. 25). 

I am so much a fool, should I stay longer (IV. ii. 28). 

Abstract Nouns Used in the Plural 
This sore night hath trifled former Tcnowings (II. iv. 3). 
Whose loves I may not drop (III. i. 121). 

Let not my jealousies be your dishonours (IV. iii. 29). 

The taints and blames I laid upon myself (IV. iii. 117). 
Bevenges burn in them (V. ii. 3). 

Before we reckon with your several loves (V. viii. 61). 

Abstract for Concrete 

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling (II. i. 36). 
Listening their fear (II. ii. 28). 

The expedition of my violent love (II. iii. 96). 

And when we have our naked frailties hid (II. iii. 112). 

Filling their hearers with strange invention (III. i. 32). 

Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits (IV. i. 144). 

Nouns as Adjectives 
Our bosom interest (I. ii. 63). 

The primrose way (II. iii. 22). 

You secret, black, and midnight hags (IV. i. 47). 

Where gott’st thou that goose look (V. iii. 11). 

Those linen cheeks of thine (V. iii. 15). 

Nouns as Verbs 

Their hands and faces were all badged with blood (II. iii. 88). 
Uproar the universal peace (IV. iii. 92). 

To dew the sovereign flower (V. ii. 30). 

I sheath again undeeded (V. vii. 20). 




GRAMMATICAL NOTES 


165 


Prepositions Frequently Interchanged 

The merciless Macdonwald ... of kerns and gallowglasses is sup¬ 
plied (I. ii. 9). With. 

Have we eaten on the insane root (I. iii. 84). Of. 

In his commendations I am fed (I. iv. 55). On. 

These deeds must not be thought after these ways (II. ii. 33). In 
this way. 

Which in his death were perfect (III. i. 107). On or with. 

Weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune (III. i. 111). By. 

I must not for certain friends (III. i. 120). On account of. 

Pity for mischance (III. iv. 43). On account of. 

Impostors to true fear (III. iv. 64). Compared with. 

Is received of the most pious Edward (III. vi. 27). By. 

With worms and flies (IV. ii. 32). On. 

They were all struck for thee (IV. iii. 217). On account of. 

Shall e’er have power upon thee (V. iii. 7). Over. 

Forced with those that should be ours (V. v. 5). Reinforced by. 
Supp’d full with horrors (V. v. 13). On. 

Pronouns Interchanged (“His” for Its) 

Wither’d murder, alarum’d by his sentinel, the wolf (II. i. 53). 
Treason has done his worst (III. ii. 24). 

Bid the tree unfix his earth-bound root (IV. i. 95). 

Personal Pronouns Used Reflexively 

Pall thee in the dunnest smoke (I. v. 53). 

And address’d them again to sleep (II. ii. 24). 

Hold thee still (III. ii. 54). 

Let every soldier hew him down a bough (V. iv. 4). 

Then yield thee, coward (V. viii. 23). 

Before we . . . make us even with you (V. viii. 62). 

Omission of the Relative Pronoun 

And the very ports (on which) they blow (1. iii. 15). 

There’s one (who) did laugh in’s sleep (II. ii. 22). 

Who was’t (who) came by (IV. i. 140). 

Than any (that) is in hell (V. vii. 7). 

Those (whom) he commands move only in command (V. ii. 19). 



166 


MACBETH 


“Which” for Who 

The slave; which ne’er shook hands (I. ii. 20). 

It was he, in the times past, which held you (III. i. 76). 

I have known those which have walked in their sleep (V. i. 66). 

“Who” for Whom 

Who I myself struck down (III. i. 122). 

Who may I rather challenge for unkindness (III. iv. 42). 

The dead man’s knell is there scarce asked for who (IV. iii. 163). 

Omission of Antecedent 

Who was the thane, lives yet (I. iii. 109). 

Who dares do more, is none (I. vii. 47). 

And hums, as who should say (III. vi. 42). 

But who knows nothing (IV. iii. 159). 

“The Which” for Which 
To the which my duties (III. i. 16). 

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d (V. viii. 41). 

Archaic Participial Verb Forms 

He shall live a man forbid (I. iii. 21). 

I have spoke (I. iv. 3). See IV. iii. 11, and V. i. 53. 

His great love hath holp him (I. vi. 23). 

Hath so exasperate the king (III. vi. 38). 

Grease that’s sweaten (IV. i. 64). 

The flighty purpose never is o y ertook (IV. i. 145). 

I have almost forgot the taste of fears (V. v. 9). 

Painted upon a pole and underwrit (V. viii. 26). 

“Be” for Are 

And be all traitors that do so (IV. ii. 48). 

A Form of “Be” for Have 

Whether he was combined with those of Norway (I. iii. 111). 
Are not those in commission yet returned (I. iv. 1). 

They are not yet come back (I. iv. 3). 

The king’s two sons are stol’n away and fled (II. iv. 26). 



GRAMMATICAL NOTES 


167 


Fleance is ’scaped (III. iv. 20). 

I am in blood stepp’d in so far (III. iv. 137). 

Macduff is fled to England (IV. i. 142). 

I would the friends we miss were safe arrived (V. viii. 35). 

Intransitive Verbs Used Transitively 

Listening their fear (II. ii. 28). 

I have almost slipp'd the hour (II. iii. 33). 

Palaces and pyramids do slope their heads (IV. i. 56). 

To make him fly the land (IV. ii. 1). 

Wretched souls that stay his cure (IV. iii. 133). 

Sundry blessings that speak him full of grace (IV. iii. 151). 

Each minute teems a new one (IV. iii. 168). 

Hang alive till famine cling thee (V. v. 40). 

Despair thy charm (V. viii. 13). 

“May” for Can, “Might” for Could 

We might have met them dareful (V. v. 6). 

Within this three mile may you see it coming (V. v. 37). 

As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air with thy keen sword impress 
(V. viii. 9). 

Omission of Verb 

Let us toward the king (I. iii. 153). Supply go. 

Good repose the while (II. i. 29). Supply may you have. 

Well contented (II. iii. 120). Supply we are. 

The near in blood, the nearer bloody (II. iii. 126). Supply a man is. 
Therefore to horse (II. iii. 129). Supply let us get. 

And wisdom to offer up a weak poor innocent lamb (IV. iii. 15). Sup¬ 
ply it may he. 

I’ll none of it (V. iii. 46). Supply have. 

Thy story quickly (V. v. 29). Supply tell. 

“Shall” and “Should” for Will and Would 
So should he look (I. ii. 45). 

Do you not hope your children shall be kings (I. iii. 119). 

We love him highly, and shall continue our graces (I. vi. 30). 

Whereto the rather shall his day’s hard journey soundly invite him 
(I. vii. 57). 

You shall offend him (III. iv. 57). 

They should find what ’twere to kill a father (III. vi. 19). 




168 


MACBETH 


Singular Verb with Plural Subject 

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day (I. iii. 148). 
The service and the loyalty I owe pays itself (I. iv. 23). 

Fate and metaphysical aid doth, seem (I. v. 31). 

What is your tidings (I. v. 33). 

Words to the heat of deeds too cool breath gives (II. i. 61). 
Benown and grace is dead (II. iii. 80). 

The mere lees is left this vault to brag of (II. iii. 82). 

There’s daggers in men’s smiles (II. iii. 126). 

’Tis two or three that bring you word (IV. i. 141). 

The means that makes us strangers (IV. iii. 156). 

There is ten thousand (V. iii. 12). 



VERSIFICATION 


The ordinary line in blank verse consists of five feet of two syllables 
each, the second syllable in each foot being accented. 

The Kin'g | hath ha'p | pil'y | received, | Macbe'th, 

The ne'ws | of th'y | succe'ss; | and wh'en | he re'ads 

Thy pe'rs | (o)nal ve'n | ture i'n | the re'b | els’ fi'ght, 

His wo'n | ders an'd | his pra'is | es do' j conte'nd. I. iii. 89. 

But as this line is too monotonous and formal for frequent use, the 
meter is varied, sometimes by changing the position of the accent, and 
sometimes by introducing trisyllabic and monosyllabic feet. It must not 
be thought that all accented syllables receive the same stress. In lines 
quoted above the syllables ly in (1), thy in (2), in in (3), and in (4) 
are defective in accent, i. e., are feebly stressed. 

The position of the accent is frequently changed. The inversion of the 
accent (trochee) is most frequent at the beginning of a line, but it occurs 
also, not uncommonly, after a pause in another part of the line. 

Mor'e is | thy du'e | than mo're | than a'll | can pa'y. I. iv. 21. 

An'gels | are br'ight | still, thou'gh | the brig'ht | est fell. IV. iii. 22. 

The trochee after a stop in the middle of a line is seen in— 

No't cast | asi'de | so so'on. | Wa's the [ hope dru'nk. I. vii. 35. 

Fee'd and | rega'rd | him no't. | Ar'e you | a man? III. iv. 58. 

The trochee is occasionally found, not following a pause. 

The ey'e | wi'nlc at | the han'd | yet le't | that b'e. I. iv. 52. . 

An extra syllable is frequently added before a pause, especially at the 
end of a line. 

But the | Norwey | an lord, | survey | ing vant | age. I. ii. 30. 

Is this | a dag | ger which | I see | before | me? II. i. 33. 

In twenty-five lines in Macbeth the superfluous syllable occurs after the 
second foot, e. g.: 

Give me | the dag | gers: | the sleep | ing and | the dead. II. ii. 52. 

169 


170 


MACBETH 


In thirty-two it occurs after the third foot, e. g.: 

Wake Dun | can with | thy knock | ing! | I would [ thou couldst! II. ii. 73. 

To plague | the inven | tor: | this ev | en-hand | ed just | ice. I. vii. 10. 

Such extra syllables are called double (or feminine) endings, and they 
afford a useful indication of the approximate date of the play. Speaking 
generally, if the double endings are rare (e. g. 9 in Love's Labour's Lost, 
1588) we may infer that the play is of early date; if frequent, that the play 
belongs to Shakespeare’s later period (e. g. 726 in Cymbeline, 1610-12). 
In Macbeth there are, according to Mr. Fleay, 399 lines with feminine 
endings. 

Two extra syllables are sometimes allowed, if unemphatic, before a 
pause, especially at the end of a line, thus giving the appearance of an 
Alexandrine. 

And last | the hear | ty wel [ come. Thanks | t(o) your ma | jesty. 
III. iv. 2. 

Unaccented monosyllables. Provided there be only one accented syllable 
there may be more than two syllables in any foot, e. g.: 

What a haste | looks through | his eyes! j So should | he look. I. ii. 45. 

Accented monosyllables. Sometimes an unemphatic monosyllable (such 
as a, and, at, for, in, of, the, to) is allowed to stand in an emphatic place, and 
to receive an accent. When it occurs at the end of the line it is called 
a ‘‘weak ending.” Weak endings appear for the first time in considerable 
numbers in Macbeth, and hardly at all in Shakespeare’s earlier plays. 

He hath | been in | unus | ual | pleas | ure and. II. i. 13. 

Syllables slurred or omitted. Many syllables which we now pronounce 
might formerly be omitted in pronunciation. Many lines apparently irregu¬ 
lar may be reduced to regularity on this principle of slurring, e. g.: if we 
contract ‘ ‘ God be with you ’ ’ into the familiar good-bye we are able to scan. 

Till sup | per time | alone: | while then | God be with you. III. i. 43. 

The commonest elisions are 'd for ed, ’s for is or for us, or for his, st 
for est, 'll for will, 'Id for would, 'It for wilt, 'rt for art, ’t for it or for 
to, o'er for over, ei'r for either, whe'r for whether, o' for of, i' for in, 
th' for thee. Other words occurring in the play, in which a vowel sound 
must be slurred or elided, are cer'mony, warr'nted, nour'sher, tyr'nny, ver'ty, 
corp 'ral, discov 'ry, temp 'ranee, persev 'ranee, gen 'ral, moment 'ry, conf'rsnee, 
ev'ry, murd'rous, etc. See Mayor’s ‘‘English Metre,” (156-9). 



VERSIFICATION 


171 


Lengthening of words. Many words are given an additional syllable in 
pronunciation, e. g.: 

The new | est state. | This is | the ser | ge-ant. I. ii. 3. 

Let your | remem | b-e-rance j apply | to Ban(quo). III. ii. 30. 

The termination - ion is frequently pronounced as two syllables, e. g.: 

Which smoked | with blood | y ex | ecu | tion. I. ii. 17. 

The ed of past participles is frequently pronounced as a separate sylla¬ 
ble even where the e is usually mute. As such words are accented in the text, 
the student will readily find examples. 

Monosyllables are drawn out in pronounciation so as to serve as a foot, 
or are pronounced as dissyllables. This generally happens where the letter r 
follows a long vowel, e. g.: 

Smells woo | ingly | he-re: | no jut | ty, frieze. I. vi. 6. 

I dreamt | last night | of the | three we j ird sist | ers. II. i. 20. 

Alexandrines containing six pronounced accents are rare in Shakespeare, 
and are most commonly found in lines divided between different speakers. 

The vict | (o)ry fell | on us. | Great hap | piness! | That now. I. ii. 57. 

And she | goes down | at twelve, j I tak(e) (i)t, | ’tis lat | er, sir. II. i. 3. 

An Alexandrine is occasionally found with a feminine ending. 

The queen | my lord | is dead. | She should | have died | here af | ter. 
V. v. 16. 

The number of lines which might be taken as Alexandrines is unusually 
large in Macbeth. But many of these are only: 

Apparent Alexandrines, which can be reduced to five-foot lines by the 
omission of unemphatic syllables. 

I’ll come | t(o) yo(u) anon. | We are | resolved | my lord. III. i. 138. 

Put on | th(eir) inst(ru)ments. |Receive | what cheer | you may. IV. 
in. 231. 

The num | bers of | our host | and make | discov(e)ry. V. iv. 6. 

Short lines. The number of short lines in Macbeth is exceptionally 
great, and may be due, as many editors think, to corruption in the text. We 
find single lines containing only four, three, or even two accents. The verse 
with four accents is often used, with rhyme “when witches or other extraor¬ 
dinary beings are introduced as speaking.”— Abbott.* 

♦ Abbott, Edwin, born at London, 1838. An English clergyman and educator. 







172 


MACBETH 


Do'uble, | do'uble | to'il and | tro'uble, 

Fi're | bu'rn and | ca'uldron | bu'bble. IV. i. 20. 

Single lines with three or two accents are most frequent at the begin* 
ning and end of a speech. 

As thi's | which no'w | I draw. II. i. 41. 

Shall har'm | Macb'eth. IV. i. 81. 

The pause in such cases may usually be filled up with action, and is 
sometimes to be explained by the haste or excitement of the speaker. 

Proper names. The same name is not always pronounced in the same 
way in Shakespeare; thus Glamis appears to be a monosyllable in I. iii. 116. 
Where it occurs at the end of a line, as in I. iii. 48, 71, it may be pro¬ 
nounced as either a monosyllable or a dissyllable. Elsewhere it is a dis¬ 
syllable. 

Dunsinane has the proper Scotch pronunciation, i. e. is accented on the 
second syllable in IV. i. 93. Elsewhere it is accented on the third syllable. 

Hecate, contrary to classical usage, is pronounced as a dissyllable. 

Macbeth is accented on the first syllable in IV. i. 126, as is also Macduff 
in III. vi. 39. 

Accent. Many words are accented otherwise than at present. 

And cha's | tise with | the val j our of | my tongue. I. v. 29. 

So we find also acce'ss, I. v. 46; pu'rveyor, I. vi. 22; o'bscure, II. iii. 
45; ma'nkind, II. iv. 18; ba'boon, IV. i. 36; co'njure, IV. i. 49; sometime', 
IV. ii. 76; perse'verance, IV. iii. 86; almo'st, V. v. 9, V. vii. 27. 

Rhyme. For a play written as late as Macbeth is supposed to have been 
(1606), the proportion of rhyming lines is large. Most of these, however, 
are introduced with a special purpose. Thus the Witches generally speak 
in rhyme that the language of the supernatural beings may differ from that 
of the ordinary characters of the play. In other cases rhyme occurs most 
frequently at the end of a scene, to indicate—in the absence of scenery and 
a drop-curtain—that the scene is concluded. At other times rhyme is em¬ 
ployed by Shakespeare (1) to convey general moralizing reflections, and 
(2) to denote a climax, especially at the end of a speech. The meter of most 
of the rhyming couplets used by the Witches is trochaic, and is often truncated 
(i. e. it lacks a final, unstressed syllable), but we frequently find iambic 
lines interspersed with the trochaic, e. g.: 

Thri'ce to | thi'ne, and | thri'ce to | mi'ne, 

And thri'ce | agai'n, | to ma'ke | up ni'ne. I. iii. 35. 




VERSIFICATION 


173 


The speech of Hecate, III. v., is iambic throughout. 

And you' | all kno'w | secu'r | ity 

Is mor' | tals ' chi'ef | est e'n | emy'. III. v. 32. 

Prose is used in comic and domestic scenes where it is desired to lower 
the dramatic pitch, as in II. iii., IV. ii., and V. i. It is also used for letters, 
as in I. v. 

Meter as an indication of date. To the most casual reader of the play 
it will be evident that Macbeth contains a large proportion of irregular 
lines. From the irregularities it may be inferred that the play does not 
belong to Shakespeare's early period of composition. 

A comparison of the play with other plays of known date belonging to 
earlier and later periods reveals the following facts. The figures are 
taken from Fleay's Shakespeare Manual. 






p a 
£ * 



•O 

QQ 

a 

gl§ 

fcH-M 

01 



c 

S 

b" 




m 

a 

So 





0 

3 

&& 


£o 

1st Period, Richard 11 .... 

... 1593-4 

537 

148 

99 

2641 

2d Period, Henry V . 

... 1599 

101 

291 

52 

3320 

3d Period, Macbeth . 

.. . 1606 

118 

399 

105 

1993 

Tempest . 

... 1610 

2 

476 

81 

2068 

4th Period, Cymbeline .... 

... 1610-12 


726 

116 

3448 


_The large proportion of short lines may be due to the fact that we 
possess the play in a mutilated form. It is also thought that many of the 
rhyme-tags which occur at the ends of scenes are the work of another than 
Shakespeare. If these possibilities be taken into consideration, then the 
metrical test will lead us to the same conclusion, with respect to the date, 
as that at which we arrived upon other grounds (Introduction, p. 21-24), 
viz., that the play was composed in the year 1606. 








VARIANTS AND PROPOSED EMENDATIONS. 


A few only of the more important are given. Other readings will be 
found in the Clarendon Press edition, to which we have occasionally referred. 


I. 

ii. 20-1. 

I. 

iii. 

15. 

I. 

iii. 

97. 

I. 

vi. 

4. 

I. 

vi. 

5. 

I. 

vii. 

6. 

I. 

vii. 

47. 

II. 

i. 

14. 

II. 

i. 

51. 

II. 

i. 

55. 

II. 

i. 

57. 

III. 

i. 

129. 


III. ii. 20. 

III. iv. 106. 

IV. i. 97. 


For which Pope reads who, Capell and. For shook hand, 
slack'd hands has been suggested. 

For very, Johnson conjectured various; for ports, Pope reads 
points. 

Hail and came are Rowe’s emendations for tale and can. 

Martlet is Rowe’s emendation of Bartlet. 

Mansionry is Theobald’s emendation of mansonry. Pope 
suggested masonry. 

Shoal is Theobald’s emendation of school. 

Do more is Rowe’s emendation of no more. For beast Col¬ 
lier suggests boast. 

For offices Rowe proposed officers. 

For sleep various commentators have proposed sleeper. 

Strides is Pope’s emendation of sides. 

Way they walk is Rowe’s emendation of they may walk. 

With the perfect spy o’ the time. Johnson changed the to 
a; Tyrwhitt proposed the perfect spot, the time; Col¬ 
lier, Acquaint you with a perfect spy, o’ the time. The 
Clarendon Press edition, the perfect'st spy, or the per¬ 
fect'st eye. 

Gain our peace. So the First folio. The Second folio, fol¬ 
lowed by Dyce, Singer, and Staunton, print place. 

If trembling I inhabit. Pope read inhibit; Theobald, me 
inhibit; Pope, I inhibit thee. Other conjectures are I ex¬ 
hibit and I inherit and I inhabit here. 

Bebellion's head is Theobald’s conjecture for Bebellion's 
dead. Another suggestion is Bebellious dead. 

174 


VAKIANTS 


175 


TV. ii. 22. Each way and move. Theobald proposed Each way and 
wave; Steevens, And each way move; Staunton Each sway 
and move; Daniels, Each way it moves. 

IV. ii. 83. Shag-hair’d is Steevens ’ emendation of shag-ear’d. 

IV. iii. 15. Deserve is Warburton’s emendation of discerne. For and 
wisdom Hammer reads ’tis wisdom; Staunton, and wisdom 
’tis or and wisdom bids. The Clarendon Press edition 
suggests that a whole line may here have dropped out. 


V. i. 29. Is shut, Howe's emendation of are shut. 

V. iii. 20. Steevens first put disseat for dis-eate. The Second folio 
reads disease. Bishop Percy suggested chair for cheer. 


V. iii. 21. For way of life Johnson proposed May of life. 

V. iii. 43. Stuff’d . . . stuff. “Pope read full for stuff’d. Others 
have conjectured foul, clogg’d, fraught, press’d. Others 
retaining stuff’d would alter stuff to grief, or matter, or 
slough, or freight.” —Clarendon Press Edition. 



CAUTIONS AND HINTS FOR PARAPHRASING 


1. Do not mistake the meaning of “to paraphrase .* 1 It is not to put 
into other words the words of a passage, but to put into your own words 
the meaning of that passage. 

2. Read, several times, the passage to be paraphrased, and be quite 
sure you have seized the general sense before attempting to write anything. 

3. Put nothing down of which you do not know the meaning. If you do 
not understand what you write you may be sure no one else will. 

4. If you use a dictionary (to be'avoided as much as possible) make sure 
you understand the meaning selected for any given word, and that it 
“fits in” with the rest of your rendering. 

5. It is better to write nothing than to put down unintelligible rubbish. 

6. In paraphrasing poetry or condensed prose (such as Bacon’s) it is 
generally necessary to amplify in order to bring out the full meaning, 
i. e. your version ought to be longer than the original. 

7. Do not turn into the third person what has been expressed in the 
first person, and especially do not change from the one to the other without 
good reason. 

8. Change the order of words, or even sentences, as much as you please 
bo long as you preserve the meaning of the passage. 

9. Maintain the spirit and general character of the composition as far as 
possible. If you know the context of the extract, that knowledge should 
help you to express yourself appropriately. If you do not know the con¬ 
text, imagine a setting for the extract; this will help you to make your 
meaning clear. 

10. Do not use a greater number of words than is necessary to convey 
your meaning, and use the simplest words you can to express your thought. 

Examples 

The student should realize that many paraphrases of the same matter, 
differing widely from one another, may be equally good and equally accept¬ 
able. We have, therefore, in the following examples given two versions of 
one passage, showing different methods of treatment. 

1. Paraphrase Macbeth’s soliloquy commencing, “If it were done when 
’tie done,” I. vii. 1-28. 


176 


CAUTIONS FOR PARAPHRASING 


177 


Could the mere execution of what I am about finally close the matter, 
then the sooner it were done the better. If the assassination held within 
itself the power to grasp success only and intercept all the other natural 
results of crime; if this one deadly stroke might be at once the committal 
and the result of the deed in this life, where we are bound on the shallow 
of time, we would risk whatever might overtake us in the full flood of 
eternity. But in these cases we always suffer the consequences in this life; 
and if we practice bloody deeds they will recoil upon us, for justice, with 
impartiality, decrees that he who administers the cup of bitterness to another 
shall himself drink of the dregs. 

His having come here to rest raises obstacles in my course; my kinship 
and allegiance form one strong barrier, the sacred duty of hospitality 
another. Instead of harming his guest, thfe host ought jealously to guard 
hia safety. Moreover, this Duncan has been so humble and just a king, 
that his goodness will appear as angelic witness against the infamy of his 
murder. The very blasts of heaven will be charged with pity—pure, inno¬ 
cent, helpless pity—and all the powers that speed at heaven’s bidding 
through the air unseen will tell the story of the ghastly act, and a wail of 
sorrow will rise high above the roaring of the winds. No, think of it as I 
will, there is nothing to urge me to the crime I contemplate but ambition, 
and that, like the force with which a too impetuous rider o’er-vaults his 
saddle, may carry me beyond my mark. 

Another Version of the Same Passage 

If the perpetration of this deed meant the satisfactory accomplishment 
of my purpose, then the sooner it were performed the better. If I could 
murder Duncan and at the same time avoid discovery, so that I might feel 
assured that, upon this earth—this narrow bank dividing us from two eter¬ 
nities—the one act of assassination might be all-sufficing and conclusive, I 
would take my chance of the world to come. But such a deed as I now con¬ 
template is often followed by retribution even in this world, and my action 
may serve but as a lesson to others, teaching them how easily blood may be 
shed, and the lesson thus taught may be practised upon myself. Justice is 
impartial and often serves the poisoner with a cup like to that which he 
prepares for his own foe. 

I am doubly bound in honor to safeguard the king. As his cousin I am 
bound to him by ties of blood, and as his subject by my sworn fealty. 
Both these reasons cry out against the deed. Again, I am his host, and if 
all the laws of hospitality demand that I guard him against evil-doers, how 
much more should I restrain my own hand from his murder! 




178 


MACBETH 


Besides, King Duncan has exercised his powers with such moderation, 
and borne the high responsibility of royalty with such freedom from re¬ 
proach, that these virtues, like angels’ tongues, will plead loudly for him, 
and will stir up indignation against the terrible crime of murder. And Pity, 
borne upon the swift wings of the wind, like a heavenly seraph or like God’s 
cherubim, will, in a breath, proclaim the horrible deed the whole world over, 
so that even wrath shall be drowned in the wells of sympathetic tears that 
will spring to the eyes of all. 

What goad have I to drive me on to action? None but ambition, which 
often over-reaches itself, as an impulsive horseman, leaping over-hastily into 
his saddle, misses his seat and falls on the other side. 

2. Paraphrase the passage commencing “She should have died here¬ 
after.” (V. v. 17-28.) 

Her death happens at an unfortunate moment. She cannot now enjoy 
those honors upon which her mind was bent. But so it always happens when 
we trust ever to the morrow to bring us something which we possess not 
today. And thus day following day, living always for the future, we creep 
sluggishly on our way until at last the book of history and of time is closed 
and eternity begins. And what has time done for those who have departed 
before us ? It has but revealed the folly of their trust and led them on 
their way to the dust from which they sprang. Begone flickering spark of 
life, thou art but an unsubstantial, passing shadow, of no more importance 
in eternity, and no more regarded than is the ranting of an inferior actor 
who strides and shouts upon some obscure stage and then passes at once 
from the sight and thoughts of the spectators. Again, life is but the noisy 
vaporings of a raving madman full of words and gestures, but devoid of 
meaning. 


t 



QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 


INTRODUCTION 
Shakespeare’s Life 

1. Write a brief account of Shakespeare’s boyhood days at Stratford. 

2. Write a brief account of Shakespeare’s married life at Stratford. 

3. What was the proximate cause of Shakespeare’s leaving Stratford for 

London ? 

4. According to tradition, how was Shakespeare first employed in London? 

5. Write a short account of Shakespeare’s last days. 

6. Trace the history of Shakespeare’s direct descendants until their final 

extinction. 

7. From your reading, what conclusion have you reached regarding Shake¬ 

speare’s religion? 

8. Tell what you know of Shakespeare’s learning. 

9. Quote the lines from Dry den’s 11 Essay on Dramatic Poesy ’ ’ bearing on 

question eight. 

10. Name four Comedies, four Tragedies, and four Chronicle Plays written 
by Shakespeare. 

The Drama 

1. Briefly state the scope of the drama. 

2. Tell what you know of the ancient Greek drama. 

3. Sketch the history of the Roman drama. 

4. Give a brief account of the connection of Christianity with the ancient 

drama. 

5. Sketch briefly the development of the modern drama in Italy, France, 

Germany, England, and Scandinavia. 

6. How does America stand in the matter of dramatic productions? 

7. Compare the staging of the drama in Shakespeare’s time with its 

staging in our day? 

8. From the absence of stage accessories, what conclusion do you draw 

regarding the intelligence of Elizabethan audiences? 

9. What does the drama undertake to tell? 

10. What is important with regard to every action in drama? 

179 - 


180 


MACBETH 


The Tragedy Macbeth 

1. When was Macbeth composed? Give reasons for your answer. 

2. Name some of the distinctive features of this play. 

3. Contrast the tragedies Macbeth and Hamlet. 

4. Name the sources from which Shakespeare took his material for Macbeth. 

5. Name some of the changes of incident which Shakespeare made in 

history. 

6. Write a short account of witchcraft as it was understood in Shakespeare’s 

time. 

7. How does Dowden speak of tragedy as conceived by Shakespeare? 

8. What is the characteristic motive of tragedy? 

9. Why is Macbeth tragic? 

10. Why is the result of Macbeth’s actions tragic? 

Duncan 

1. Briefly describe Duncan’s character. 

2. What was one of Duncan’s chief political blunders? 

3. How does the character of Duncan, as portrayed in history, compare 

with his character as represented by Shakespeare? 

4. What does Holinslied say regarding the beginning of Duncan’s reign? 

Macbeth 

1. Tinder what baneful influence does Macbeth appear to act throughout 

the play? 

2. What qualities of Macbeth’s character first impress us? 

3. Discuss the courage of Macbeth. 

4. How is the analysis of Macbeth’s character, as represented at the begin¬ 

ning of the play, facilitated? 

5. When does Macbeth’s character undergo a complete revolution? 

Lady Macbeth 

1. In considering Lady Macbeth’s character, of what should the reader 

divest himself? 

2. What do you regard as the cause of Lady Macbeth’s fall from grace? 

3. What do you regard as the strongest trait of Lady Macbeth’s character ? 

4. How did Lady Macbeth die? 

5. Briefly summarize Mrs. Jameson’s estimate of Lady Macbeth’s 

character. 



QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 


181 


Banquo 

1. To whom is Banquo regarded as a foil in this play? 

2. What are the prominent traits of Banquo’s character? 

3. Quote lines illustrating Banquo’s modesty of character. 

4. Quote lines to show that Banquo was not entirely free from the vices of 

ambition and superstition. 

5. By what vices of his own was Banquo’s ruin accomplished ? 

Macduff, Malcolm, the Witches, and the Macbeth Period of 
Scottish History 

1. Why does Macbeth hate and fear Macduff? 

2. What is Malcolm’s distinguishing characteristic? 

3. Quote the lines in which Malcolm describes his own character. 

4. Briefly discuss the Witches. 

5. Write a short review of the Macbeth period of Scottish history. 

Act I— Scenes I and II 

1. Describe the opening Scene of the play. What battle is referred to? 

2. Give a Short account Of the State of Scotland so far as this may be 

gathered from the second scene. Who were Duncan, Malcolm, Mac¬ 
beth? 

3. Explain the following with reference to the context: 

(a) Fair is foul, and foul is fair. 

(b) So well thy words become thee as thy wounds. 

(c) Go pronounce his present death. 

4. What do you know about the Western Isles, Golgotha, Bellona, Saint 

Colme f s Inch? 

5. In what sense does Shakespeare use the following words: hurlyburly, 

gallowglasses, minion, memorize, lavish? 

Act I— Scene III 

1. Describe the interview between the Witches and Macbeth and Banquo. 

2. Explain the following expressions, and show the connection in which 

they severally occur in the play: 11 the weird sisters, ” “ you imperfect 
speakers,” “function is smother’d in surmise,” “the interim having 
weigh’d it.” 

3. Name some of the customary occupations of the witches, using quota¬ 

tions in your answer. 





182 


MACBETH 


4. Comment upon the grammar or phraseology of the following: “To be 

king stands not within the prospect of belief, no more than to be 
Cawdor,” “ Who was the thane lives yet,” “ Time and the hour runs 
through the roughest day,” “Let us toward the king.” 

5. Macbeth says to the Witches: “The thane of Cawdor lives, a pros¬ 

perous gentleman. ’ ’ Discuss the question as to whether this statement 
is inconsistent with any preceding passage in the play. 

Act I—Scenes IV-VII 

1. Give your own view of the character of Duncan, supporting your 

statements by quotations from the play. 

2. By whom, to whom, and under what circumstances were the following 

lines spoken? Explain where necessary. 

(a) It is a peerless kinsman. 

(b) Stop up the access and passage to remorse. 

(c) The love that follows us sometime is our trouble. 

(d) False face must hide what the false heart doth know. 

3. Give the substance of Macbeth’s soliloquy, commencing: “If it were 

done when ’tis done.” 

4. Explain fully: “We will establish our estate upon our eldest, Mal¬ 

colm,” “the milk of human kindness,” “metaphysical aid,” “coign 
of vantage,” “He’s here in double trust,” “sightless couriers of 
the air,” “the receipt of reason a limbec only.” 

5. Show that Macbeth is subject to the stronger will of his wife. 

Act I and General 

1. Show, giving quotations, that Macbeth at the period of the first act is 

generally held in high repute. 

2. What circumstances are alluded to in the following lines? Explain 

them and name the speaker: 

(a) 'So from that spring whence comfort seem’d to come 
Discomfort swells. 

(b) Though his bark cannot be lost, 

Yet it shall be tempest-tost. 

(c) He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, 

Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make. 

(d) He brings great news. 

(e) What beast was ’t then, 

That made you break this enterprise to me. 



QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 


183 


3. Explain the following: “overcharged with double cracks,’’ “flout the 
sky, “aroint thee,” “the insane root,” “supernatural soliciting,” 
* 1 nature’s mischief, ” “ this ignorant present, ” “ trammel up, ’ * 
“our great quell.” 

Act II— Scenes I and II 

1. Show by means of incidents or quotations the honesty of Banquo. 

2. Paraphrase the following lines, and tell by whom they were spoken: 

(a) Being unprepared, 

Our will became the servant to defect; 

Which else should free have wrought. 

(b) Mine eyes are made the fools o’ the other senses 
Or else worth all the rest. 

3. Explain the allusions in the following: “Pale Hecate,” “Tarquin’s 

ravishing strides,” “the fatal bellman, which gives the stern’st 
good-night,” “great Neptune’s ocean.” 

4. Comment upon anything peculiar in the meter or the grammar of the 

following lines: 

(a) As this which now I draw. 

(b) Words to the heat of deeds too cool breath gives. 

(c) At the south entry; retire we to our chamber. 

5. Give the substance of the conversation that ensued between Macbeth 

and his wife immediately after the murder. 

i 

Act II— Scenes III and IV 

1. What evidence is contained in the Porter’s speech bearing upon the 

date of composition of this play ? 

2. How does Macbeth attempt to justify his action in killing the king’s 

servants ? 

3. Explain with reference to the context: 

(a) Confusion now hath made his masterpiece. 

(b) All is but toys: renown and grace is dead. 

(c) There’s daggers in men’s smiles. 

(d) Lest our old robes sit easier than our new. 

4. Give the meaning of the following words: napkins, equivocate, argument, 

ravin, benison. 

5. Give some account of the prodigies that accompanied the murder of 

Duncan. In what other of Shakespeare’s plays are similar portents 
described? 



184 


MACBETH 


Act II and General 

1. What external and internal evidence is there as to the date of the play? 

What other plays of Shakespeare belong to the same period of 
composition ? 

2. Explain the following expressions, and show very briefly their context 

in the play: “husbandry in heaven,” “sensible to feeling,” “take 
the present horror from the time, ” “ roast your goose, ” “ I ’ll devil- 
porter it no further,” “the great doom’s image,” “the traveling 
lamp,” “mousing owl.” 

3. What do you know of Scone, Colme-kill, the locality of Macbeth’s 

Castle ? 

4. Give examples from this act of the use of: 

(a) Puns; (b) adverbs used as adjectives; (c) the omission of a verb 
of motion. 

5. How were the following persons affected, either in their fortunes or 

their feelings, by the murder of Duncan: Malcolm, Macduff, Banquo, 
Macbeth ? 

Act III —Scenes I and II 

1. Show that the feelings of Macbeth and Banquo towards each other 

have undergone considerable change since the beginning of the play, 
and give the reasons for this change. 

2. Give the substance of Macbeth’s conversation with the murderers. 

3. Give the context of the following lines and explain them: 

(a) To be thus is nothing; 

But to be safely thus. 

(b) Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are clept 
All by the name of dogs. 

(c) We have scotch’d the snake, not kill’d it. 

(d) But in them nature’s copy’s not eterne. 

4. Give the meaning of the following words, and illustrate their use by 

quoting from the play: rancours, addition, spy, ecstasy, shard-borne. 

5. Explain fully: 

Under him 

My Genius is rebuked, as, it is said, 

Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. 

Act III —Scenes III and IV 

1. Is there any reason for supposing that the third murderer was Macbeth 
himself? State your own views on the subject. 



QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 


185 


2. Briefly describe the banquet scene. How do you account for Macbeth's 

behavior on that occasion? 

3. Explain the following passages and give their context: 

(a) To feed were best at home; 

From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; 

Meeting were bare without it. 

(b) Augures and understood relations have 

By maggot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth 
The secret’st man of blood. 

4. With what unusual signification are the following words found in these 

scenes: offices, encounter, saucy, flaws, admired, owe? 

5. Describe the conversation between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth with 

which the banquet closes. What light does it throw upon the character 
of either? 

Act III— Scenes V and VI 

1. Explain the connection between Hecate and the Witches. 

2. Explain the allusions in the following and comment upon the words in 

italics: 

(a) Hark! I am call'd: my little spirit, see, 

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. 

(b) They should find 
What ’twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. 

(c) The most pious Edward. 

3. Explain the meaning of the following expressions: ‘ ‘ artificial sprites,'' 

“who cannot want the thought,” “from broad words,” “receive 
free honours, ” “ the cloudy messenger turns me his back.'' 

4. A song unthin: “Come away, come away,” etc. Quote some of the 

succeeding lines of this song. In what other play is the song to be 
found? Is any inference to be drawn from this fact as to the 
authorship of this part of the play? 

Act III and General 

1. Show to what extent supernatural influences determine the course of 

the action of the play. 

2. What authorities did Shakespeare consult for the incidents of the 

play? 

3. Explain, with reference to the context: 

(a) Rather than so, come, fate, into the list, 

And champion me to the utterance! 



186 


MACBETH 


(b) After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well. 

(c) This is more strange 
Than such a murder is. 

(d) And you all know, security 
Is mortals’ chiefest enemy. 

4. Give some account of the following words: bill, seeling, rooky, nonpa¬ 

reil, trenched, maws, maggot-pies, confusion, thralls. 

5. Give some account of the properties and powers attributed by 

Shakespeare to the Witches. 

Act IV— Scenes I and II 

1. Mention some of the ingredients of the Witches’ cauldron. For what 

reason were horrible or loathsome objects alone chosen? 

2. Describe and explain the different apparitions presented to the eyes of 

Macbeth through the agency of the Witches. 

3. Explain fully: 

(a) Though the treasure 
Of nature’s germens tumble all together, 

Even till destruction sicken; answer me. 

(b) And some, I see, 

That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry: 

(c) But cruel are the times, when we are traitors 
And do not know ourselves. 

4. With what meaning and in what connection do the following words 

occur? swelter’d, ravin’d, chaudron, impress, pernicious, firstlings, 
gin, shag-hair’d. 

5. Discuss Macduff’s conduct in leaving his wife and fleeing to England. 

6. What is your opinion of Lady Macduff? 

Act IV— Scene III 

1. How and for what purpose does M'alcolm misrepresent himself to 

Macduff? 

2. Show how Shakespeare in this scene conveys a compliment to King 

James. 

3. Explain, briefly denoting the context: 

(a) That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose. 

(b) Now we’ll together; and the chance of goodness 
Be like our warranted quarrel. 



QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 


187 


(c) To relate the manner, 

Were, on the quarry of these murder’d deer, 

To add the death of you. 

(d) Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth 
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above 
Put on their instruments. 

4. Notice anything that may be remarkable in the following expressions: 

11 uproar the universal peace,” “the means that makes us strangers,’’ 
1 *Since that the truest issue . . . stands accursed,” “relation, 

too nice, and yet too true,” “nothing, but who knows nothing.” 

5. Describe the effect upon Macduff of the news of his wife’s murder. 

How does this murder affect the progress of the action of the play? 

Act IV and General 

1. Show that Shakespeare, in his conception of the Witches, has largely 

followed the popular beliefs of his own times. 

2. Describe, with quotations from the play, the appearance of Shake¬ 

speare’s Witches. 

3. Explain the following: “Take a bond of fate,”“Thy crown does sear 

mine eye-balls, ” “ the blood-bolter’d Banquo, ” “ the natural touch, ’ ’ 
“recoil in an imperial charge,” “the title is affeer’d,” “portable,” 
* 1 ’Tis call’d the evil,” “a modern ecstasy,” “he has no children.’’ 

4. What allusions are made in this Act to the moon, Birnam Wood, the 

wren, angels, Edward the Confessor? 

5. Show the degradation of Macbeth after his second meeting with the 

Witches. 

Act V—Scenes I, II and III 

1. Mention the incidents of Lady Macbeth’s career to which she refers in 

the sleep-walking scene. 

2. Quote the lines in which Macbeth gives expression to his weariness of 

life. 

3. Explain with reference to the context: 

(a) My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight. 

(b) Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal. 

(c) Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased? 

4. Some say he’s mad; others that lesser hate him, 

Do call it valiant fury. 

Upon what grounds was this opinion formed of Macbeth’s conduct? 
What is your own view on the matter? 




188 


MACBETH 


5. Explain the following: ‘‘This is her very guise,” “the bleeding and 
the grim alarm, ’’ “unrough youths,* * “all mortal consequences, * * 
“skirr the country round. * * 

Act V—Scenes IV-YII 

1. How does Macbeth receive the news of his wife’s death? Give the 

substance of his reflections upon hearing of it. 

2. Describe the incident of the moving wood, and give the words of the 

prophecy of which it was a fulfilment. 

3. Describe the parts played by the Doctor, Seyton, and Young Siward. 

4. Explain the meaning of the following expressions and briefly indicate 

the context in which they occur: ‘ ‘ Thoughts speculative their unsure 

hopes relate,” “my fell of hair,” “to the last syllable of recorded 
time,” “I pull in resolution,” “I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st.” 

5. Describe the action of Malcolm as shown in these scenes, and contrast 

it with his previous conduct. 

Act V — Scene VIII 

1. Discuss the question of Macbeth’s bravery during the last phases of his 

life. 

2. What is said in this scene upon the subject of Young Siward’s death? 

3. By whom, to whom, and under what circumstances were the following 

words spoken? Explain where necessary: 

(a) Why should I play the Roman fool? 

(b) We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, 

Painted upon a pole. 

(c) I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl, 

That speak my salutation in their minds. 

4. Explain the following words and expressions: palter, the show and gaze 

o’ the time, Tcnoll’d, score, the time is free . 

5. Discuss Macbeth’s faith in the Witches, and show to what extent it 

influenced his actions. 

Act V and General 

1. Show from the play Lady Macbeth’s feminine nature and her admira¬ 

tion of her husband. 

2. What use of rhyme and of prose is made by Shakespeare? Give 

examples from this Act. 



QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 


189 


3. Give the meaning of: sag, sear, moe, censures, equivocation, harbingers, 

still, Icerns. 

4. What allusions are contained in this act to Arabia, English epicures, 

physic, the stage, bear-baiting, earls? 

General Questions 

1. Write an essay upon courage and distinguish between the kind of 

courage exhibited by Macbeth and that which Lady Macbeth 
possessed. 

2. Draw a contrast between the plays, Macbeth and Hamlet, and between 

the heroes of the two plays. 

3. What do you understand by (1) Irony, (2) Euphemism? Give examples 

from this play. 

4. Quote from the play allusions to (1) night, (2) dreams. 

5. Give the exact location of Inverness, Scone, Birnam Wood, and Forres. 

6. What do you know of the true history of the period at which Macbeth 

lived? 

7. Mention some of the more important points in which Shakespeare has 

departed from his historical authority, and give reasons for his 
deviations. 

8. Write a concise Argument to this drama. Comment on its diction, 

attitude (characteristics common to the personages generally), and 
motive (or pervading sentiment). 

9. Sketch the life of Shakespeare, and point out his chief excellencies as 

a dramatist. 

10. Discuss the prosody of the following lines: 

(a) Smells wooingly here; no jutty frieze. 

(b) Of his own chamber, and used their very daggers. 

(c) Which in his death were perfect. I am one, my liege. 

(d) I’ll come to you anon. We are resolved, my lord. 

(e) In our last conference; pass’d in probation with you. 

11. Comment upon the grammatical peculiarities in the following: 

(a) Always thought that I require a clearness. 

(b) This sore night hath trifled former knowings. 

(e) Weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune. 

(d) Who may I rather challenge for unkindness. 

(e) ’Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word. 

12. Quote any lines you may remember for which emendations have been 

proposed, and discuss the alternative readings. 



190 


MACBETH 


13. From what sources did Shakespeare derive this play? 

14. Mention the chief instances of the supernatural in Macbeth; and 

show how this element determines the action of the play. 

15. Explain, with reference to the context: 

(1) Confronted him with self-comparisons. 

(2) Within the note of expectation. 

(3) Better thee without than he within. 

(4) Let our just censures attend the true event. 

(5) Function is smothered in surmise. 

16. Give the meaning of: weird, harbinger, limbec, shard-borne, farrow, 

foison, chaudron, germens, hermit, vouch’d, doff, pester’d . 

17. Illustrate from the play Macbeth's openness, ambition, strong imag¬ 

ination. 

18. Quote reference to swimming, sickness, navigation, the stage, horses; 

and write out any four phrases which have become familiar 
quotations. 

19. What internal evidence is there as to the date of the composition of 

this play? 

20. How far does the play Macbeth correspond with or misrepresent 

historical facts? 

21. Contrast the characters of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth with some 

characters in other tragedies. 

22. Explain, with reference to the context: 

(1) the golden round 
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem 
To have thee crown’d withal. 

(2) There’s husbandry in heaven; 

Their candles are all out. 

(3) But this sore night 

Hath trifled former knowings. 

(4) All these are portable 
With other graces weighed. 

(5) Their malady convinces 
The great assay of art. 

(6) Ay, in the catalogue 
Ye go for men. 

23. Give some account of the words: paddock, inch, limbec, weird, foisons, 

sag, clept. 



WORKS OF REFERENCE 


For the convenience of teachers and others the following list of aids 
to the study of Shakespeare is presented: 


Dowden’s Shakespeare, His Mind 
and Art. 

Gervinus’ Shakespeare Commen¬ 
taries. 

Coleridge’s Lectures on Shakespeare. 

Karl Elze’s Essays on Shakespeare. 

Hazlitt’s Characters of Shakespeare. 

Hudson’s Shakespeare*s Life, Art 
and Character. 

Drake’s Shakespeare and his Times. 

Scottowe’s Life of Shakespeare. 

Moulton’s Shakespeare as a Dra¬ 
matic Artist. 

Lee’s Shakespeare*s Life and Works. 

Sherman’s What is Shakespeare. 

Mrs. Kemble’s Notes upon some of 
Shakespeare’s Plays. 

Mrs. Jameson’s Shakespeare’s Hero¬ 
ines. 

Swinburne’s A study of Shakespeare. 

Campbell’s Shakespeare’s Legal Ac¬ 
quirements. 

Barrett Wendell’s William Shakes¬ 
peare. 

A. W. Ward’s History of Dramatic 
Literature. 

J. Bartlett’s Concordance of Shakes¬ 
peare. 

Dr. Elizabeth Woodbridge’s The 
Drama, Its Laws and Its Tech¬ 
nique. 


Spalding’s Elizabethan Demonology. 

Fleay’s Shakespeare Manual. 

Scott’s Essays on Chivalry, Eomance 
and the Drama. 

Charles Lamb’s Works. 

Schmidt’s Shakespeare Lexicon. 

Halliwell’s Dictionary of Archaic 
and Provincial Words. 

Nare’s Glossary, ed. Halliwell and 
Wright. 

Kinnear’s Classical Dictionary. 

Freytag’s Technic des Dramas, 
translated into English by E. 
MacEwan. 

Smith’s Classical Dictionary. 

The Encyclopedia Britannica. 

Hazlitt’s Shakespeare’s Plays and 
Poems. 

Knight’s Pictorial Edition of 
Shakespeare. 

The Henry Irving Shakespeare. 

The Clarendon Press, Globe, War¬ 
wick, Temple, Pitt Press Edi¬ 
tions of the Play. 

Bianchi’s Mythology of Greece and 
Pome. 

Stending’s Greek and Boman Myth¬ 
ology. 

Abbott’s Shakespearian Grammar. 

Mayor’s Chapters on English Metre. 


191 

















GLOSSARY 


Adder, viper, IV. i. 10. 

Addition, title, I. iii. 106. 

Address’d, prepared, II. ii. 24. 

Afeard, made afraid, I. iii. 90. 

Affection, disposition, nature, IV. iii. 70. 

Affee'r’d, assessed, confined, established, 

IV. iii. 34. 

All-thing, (adv.) altogether. III. i. 13. 

A-making, a compacted prepositional 
phrase of which the parts are “on”= 
in, and “making,” an abstract noun, 
III. iv. 34. 

Amazed, confused, II. iii. 94, IV. i. 126; 

V. i. 86. 

An, if. III vi. 19. 

Annoyance, injury, V. i. 84. 

Anon, (1) at once, I. i. 9; (2) in a mo¬ 
ment, II. iii. 24. 

Antic, quaint. The same word as an¬ 
tique, IV. i. 130. 

Antidote, a medicine given as a remedy, 
especially to counteract the effects of 
poison, V. iii. 42. 

Approve, prove, I. vi. 4. 

Argument, topic, discussion, II. iii. 106. 

Aroint thee, begone, I. iii. 6. 

Assay, attempt, effort, IV. iii. 135. 

Augure, augury, the science of divina¬ 
tion, III. iv. 125. 

Avaunt, begone. III. iv. 94. 

Aweary, the prefix here seems not to 
be from “of,” as explained by Ab¬ 
bott, but is due to the analogy of 
words like “alive,” where it is the 
preposition “on.” Cf. “a-making” 
above, V. v. 49. 

Baited, provoked, harassed, V. viii. 29. 

Bane, destruction, V. iii. 58. 

Bank, in the ordinary sense of ground 
on the edge of water, and not beach, 

I. vii. 6. 

Battle, army corps, V. vi. 4. 

Beldam, hag, III. v. 2. 

Benison, blessing, II. iv. 40. 

Birthdom, explained by Dr. Johnson as 
“birthright,” but better as “land of 
our birth,” IV. ill. 4. 

Blanch, to turn pale, whiten, III. iv. 117. 

Blaspheme, to slander, IV. iii. 101. 

193 


Blood-bolter’d, having the hair matted 

with blood, IV. i. 123. 

Blow, blow upon, I. iii. 15. 

Bodement, prediction, IV. 1. 90. 

Boot, in addition, profit, advantage, IV. 
iii. 37. 

Borne in hand, deceived with false 

promises. III. i. 80. 

Botch, a bungling, III. i. 133. 

Breech’d, covered, II. iii. 102. 

Brinded, or brindled, streaked, IV. i. 1. 
Broad, unrestrained. III. vi. 21; III. iv. 
23. 

Bruited, rumored, proclaimed, V. vii, 22. 

Cabin’d, imprisoned, III. iv. 24. 

Casing, encasing, enclosing. III. Iv. 23. 
Censures, opinions, V, iv. 14. 

Chalice, a cup, I. vii. 11. 

Chamberlain, the officer charged with 
the direction and management of the 
private apartments of the king, I. 
vii. 58. 

Champion, to challenge. III. i. 71. 
Chance, event, II. iii. 77; IV. iii. 128. 
Chaps, jaws, I. ii. 21. 

Chaudron, intestines, IV. i. 32. 

Choppy, chapped, I. iii. 44. 

Choughs, jackdaws, III. iv. 126. 

Chuck, said to be a variant of chick, 
III. ii. 45. 

Clept, called, III. 1. 93. 

Cling, shrivel, V. v. 40. 

Cloister’d, having to do with a cloister; 
an example of the Elizabethan free¬ 
dom in coining adjectives. III. ii. 41. 
Close, secret, III. v. 7. 

Cloudy, gloomy, sullen, III. vi. 41. 
Coign, a corner, I, vi. 7. 

Composition, an arrangement of peace 
terms, I. ii. 58. 

Compt, account, I. vi. 20. 
Compunctious, causing compunction, I. 
v. 47. 

Confineless, boundless, IV. iii. 55. 
Confounds, ruins, II. ii. 11. 

Confusion, destruction, II. iii. 52. 
Consent, advice, counsel, II. 1. 25. 
Convince, overcome, overpower, I. vii. 
59; IV. iii. 134. 


1 


194 


MACBETH 


Corporal, corporeal, substantial, I. vll. 
74. 

Cracks, here In the sense of "charge/' 
rather than of the noise made by the 
charge, I. 11. 36. 

Curtained, having a curtain, II. i. 61. 

Dearest, having a close relation to, I. 
v. 12. 

Degrees, ranks, III. iv. 1. 

Doom, judgment, the day of judgment, 

II. iii. 64. 

Doubt, to fear, IV. ii. 67; V. v. 43. 

Dudgeon, the hilt, II. i. 46. 

Dunnest, darkest, superlative of dun- 
brown, I. v. 53. 

Ecstasy, madness, mental suffering, III. 

il. 22. 

Equivocate, to speak with double mean¬ 
ing, prevaricate, II. iii. 13. 

Eterne, eternal. III. ii. 38. 

Expedition, haste, II. iii. 96. 

Fact, literally, something done; here, 
an evil deed or crime, III. vi. 10. 

Faculties, powers, I. vii. 17. 

Fantastical, imaginary, I. iii. 53. 

Farrow, a litter of pigs, IV. i. 64. 

Fee-grief, a private, or personal sor¬ 
row, IV. iii. 188. 

Fell, fierce, cruel, IV. ii. 71; a head, 
V. v. 11. 

Fenny, living in a fen, IV. i. 12. 

File, list, III. i. 94; V. ii. 8. 

Filed, defiled, III. i. 64. 

Fits, convulsions, IV. ii. 17. 

Flaw, a gust of wind; hence an out¬ 
burst of emotion or passion, III. iv. 63. 

Flighty, in a swift flight, IV. i. 145. 

Flourish, a set of notes on a trumpet 
performed on the approach of any 
person of distinction, I. iv. (Stage 
dir.) 

Flout, mock defiantly, I. ii. 48. 

Foisons, abundance, IV. iii. 81. 

Follows, attends, follows upon, I. vi. 11. 

Forbid, accursed, under an interdict, I. 
iii. 21. 

Forced, reinforced, V. v. 5. 

Founded, having a foundation, III. iv. 

22 . 

Franchised, free (here from disloyal 
obligations), II. i. 28. 

From, in consequence of, III. vi. 21, 
IV. ii. 20. 

Fry, literally, spawn of fishes, used in 
the sense of offspring, IV. ii. 84. 

Function, "active exercise of the facul¬ 
ties’’ (Clar. Press), I. iii. 141. 


Gallowglass, a heavy-armed foot- 
soldier. (Irish, gallo-glach), I. ii. 13. 
Germens, seeds, IV. i. 58. 

Gild, used figuratively of smearing with 
blood, II. ii. 55. 

Gin, trap or snare, IV. il. 35. 

Gouts, drops, II. i. 46. 

Graced, gracious, -ed here is the adj. 
suffix meaning "characterized by,” 

III. iv. 41. 

Groom, a servant, II. ii. 5; II. ii. 49. 
Gulf, gullet, IV. I. 23. 

Hangman, executioner, II. ii. 27. 
Harbinger, forerunner, messenger, I. 
iv. 45; V. vi. 10. 

Hautboys, (stage dir.) wooden wind in¬ 
struments, I. vi. 

Hawk’d at, struck, as a hawk strikes 
its prey, II. iv. 13. 

Hold, accept, IV. ii. 19. 

Holp, helped, I. vi. 23. 

Horror, used here for the fearful silence, 
II. i. 59. 

Howlet, young owl, IV. i. 17. 

Hurlyburly, a tumult, I. i. 3. 

Husbandry, thrift, II. i. 5. 

Hyrcan, belonging to Hyrcania, a coun¬ 
try south of the Caspian Sea, III. iv. 
102 . 

'Ild, for "yield” in the older sense of 
reward, I. vi. 13. 

Illness, evil disposition, I. v. 22. 
Impress, press, i.e. force into service, 

IV. i. 95. 

Inch, an island, I. ii. 60. 

Incarnadine, to make scarlet, II. Ii. 61. 
Informs thus, brings forth this form, 
II. i. 48. 

Inhabit, to keep at home, to remain 
within doors, III. iv. 106. 

Interest, here in sense of affection, I. il. 
63. 

Intrenchant, not to be cut. Invulnerable, 

V. viii. 9. 

Jocund, jovial. III. ii. 40. 

Jump, risk, I. vii. 7. 

Jutty, projection, I. vi. 6. 

Kern, an Irish light-armed foot-soldier, 
I. ii. 13; I. ii. 29; V. vii. 17. 

Knoll’d, tolled, V. viii. 50. 

Knowings, experiences, II. iv. 4. 

Laced, streaked, II. iii. 98. 

Lack, need, requirement, IV. Hi. 229. 





GLOSSARY 


195 


tapp’d, wrapped, I. 11. 53. 

Latch, to catch, IV. iil. 187. 

Lated, late, the suffix ed having the 
meaning “characterized by being,” 
III. iii. 6. 

Lavish, profuse, prodigal, exultant, I. 

ii. 56. 

Levy, an armed force, III. ii. 25. 

Limbec, popular form of alembic, a 
still, I. vii. 62. 

Limited, appointed, bound by duty, II. 

iii. 37. 

Line, reinforce, as a garment is 
strengthened by lining, I. iii. 112. 

Lodged, laid low, IV. i. 54. 

Loon, a base fellow, V. iii. 11. 

Luxurious, lustful, IV. iii. 58. 

Maggot-pie, a magpie, III. iv. 126. 

Martlet, a martin, I. vi. 4. 

Mated, overcome, confounded, same as 
in checkmate, V. i. 86. 

Maw, a stomach, III. iv. 73; IV. i. 23. 

Mere, entire, complete, IV. iii. 82; IV. 
iii. 144. 

Metaphysical, supernatural, I. v. 31. 

Methought, it seemed to me; an en¬ 
tirely distinct word from the pre¬ 
terit of “think” with which it has 
in time become confused, II. ii. 34; V. 
v. 34. 

Minion, darling, favorite, I. ii. 18; II. 
Iv. 15. 

Minutely, occurring every minute, V. ii. 
18. 

Missive, anything sent; a messenger, I. 
v. 7. 

Modern, common, ordinary, IV. iii. 162. 

Moe, more (in number), V. iii. 34. 

Mortality, mortal life, II. iii. 79. 

Mortified, dead figuratively; dead to all 
natural feelings, V. ii. 5. 

Mummy, dried carcass, IV. i. 23. 

Muse, wonder, III. iv. 86. 

Napkin, a handkerchief, II. Hi. 7. 

Naught, evil, IV. iii. 217. 

Nave, the central part of a wheel; here, 
and here only, used as a diminutive 
of navel, I. ii. 21. 

Navigation, shipping, IV. i. 53. 

Near, (Comp, of nigh.) a comparative 
form, used in later English as a posi¬ 
tive with new comparative “nearer,” 
II. iii. 125. 

Newt, a lizard, IV. i. 14. 

Nice, minutely particular, IV. Iii. 166. 

Niggard, miser, IV. iii. 172. 


Nightgown, dressing-gown. Night¬ 
gowns in the modern sense were un¬ 
known until a comparatively recent 
date, II. ii. 69; V. i. 5; V. i. 69. 

Nonpareil, matchless, III. iv. 19. 

Notion, mind, III. i. 82. 

Oblivious, causing oblivion. Cf. “insane” 
in I. iii. 84; V. iii. 42. 

O’er-fraught, overcharged, IV. iii. 202. 

Offices, servants, II. i. 14. 

On, of, I. iii. 84; V. I. 70. 

Or, before; it has no connection with 
the alternative “or,” IV. iii. 165. 

Owe, possess, own, I. iii. 76; I. iv. 10; 

III. iv. 114. 

Pall, (verb) wrap as in a pall, I. v. 53. 

Palpable, capable of being felt, II. i. 40. 

Palter, equivocate, dodge, V. viii. 20. 

Patch, a term of contempt, whether 
from the patched or parti-colored 
dress of jesters, or from the Italian 
“pazzo,” a fool, is uncertain, V. iii. 14. 

Peak, to grow lean, fall away, I. iii. 23. 

Pearl, “this mean’s ‘thy kingdom’s 
wealth,’ or rather ‘ornaments’ ” (Ma¬ 
lone in Var.), V. viii. 56. 

Pent-house, literally, a shed projecting 
from a main building; in Shakespeare, 
an eyelid, I. iii. 20. 

Pernicious, hurtful, deadly, IV. i. 133. 

Pester, (formerly to encumber, clog; 
short for “impester”) harassed, V. 
ii. 23. 

Place, “a technical term in falconry 
for the pitch attained by a falcon 
before swooping down on its prey," 
II. iv. 12. 

Point, at a, prepared for, IV. iil. 127. 

Poorly, unworthily, II. ii. 71. 

Portable, tolerable, endurable, IV. iii. 82. 

Posset, a drink of hot, curdled milk, 
usually taken at night, II. ii. 6. 

Posters, swift travelers, I. iii. 33. 

Power, army, IV. iii. 177; IV. iii. 228; 
V. ii. 1; V. vi. 7. 

Present, immediate, its usual Eliza¬ 
bethan sense, I. ii. 63. Cf. “presently,” 

IV. iii. 137. 

Pretence, design, Intent, II. iii. 117. 

Pretend, intend, aim at, II. iv. 24. 

Probation, proof, III. i. 79. 

Proof, armor that has been proved im¬ 
penetrable, I. ii. 53. 

Protest, publicly proclaim, declare. III. 

iv. 106; V. ii. 11. 




196 


MACBETH 


Purveyor, one who goes before to make 
provision for the table; a herald, I. 
vi. 22. 

Push, attack, V. Hi. 19. 

Put on, set to work, IV. ill. 231. 

Quarry, a heap of slaughtered game, 
IV. ill. 198. 

Quell, used euphemistically for murder, 
I. vii. 67. 

Rancours, hatreds, III. i. 66. 

Ravell’d, tangled, II. ii. 36. 

Ravin, to devour, plunder, II. iv. 28; 
IV. 1. 24. 

Rawness, without due preparation, IV. 
iii. 26. 

Receipt, receptacle, I. vii. 61. 

Received, received as true, I. vii. 67. 

Recoil, to give way, yield, IV. iii. 19. 

Repetition, recital, II. iii. 71. 

Require, request, III. iv. 6. 

Ronyon, a mangy, or scabby animal, 
I. iii. 6. 

Rooky, gloomy, haunted by rooks, III. 
ii. 61. 

Rubs, imperfections, III. i. 133. 

Rump-fed, variously explained:—(1) 
Fed on good meat. (2) Fed on poor 
meat. (3) Fed on nuts. (1) seems 
the most probable, I. iii. 6. 

Sag, to droop, V. iii. 10. 

Saucy, violent, III. iv. 25. 

Scarf up, to blindfold. III. ii. 47. 

Score, account or reckoning, V. viii. 52. 

Scotch'd, slightly wounded, III. ii. 13. 

Sear, burn, scorch, IV. i. 113; dry or 
wither, V. iii. 22. 

Seeling, making blind, a technical term 
in falcony. To “seel” was to close 
the eyes of a young hawk by draw¬ 
ing a thread through the lids, III. 
ii. 46. 

Self-abuse, self deception, III. iv. 143. 

Sennet, “a technical term for a particu¬ 
lar set of notes played by trumpets 
or cornets and different from a 
flourish” (Clar. Press), III. i. 10. Stg. 
dir. 

Se’nnights, a week, seven nights, I. iii. 

22 . 

Sensible, apparent to the senses, II. i. 
36. 

Sewer, “the officer who formerly set 
and removed dishes, tasted them, 
etc.” (Skeat.) “In Elizabethan time6 


when servants entered with the 
dishes for a banquet, he (the Sewer) 
preceded them,” I. vii., Stg. dir. 

Shag, rough, IV. ii. 83. 

Shard-borne, borne on shards, i. e. the 
scaly wing case of the beetle, III. ii. 
42. 

Shoughs, rough-coated dogs, III. i. 93. 

Sightless, invisible, I. v. 51; I. vii. 23. 

Single, weak, I. iii. 141. 

Sirrah, a form of address used toward 
comparatively inferior persons, III. 
1. 44. 

Skirr, scour, V. iii. 34. 

Slab, slimy, viscous, IV. i. 31. 

Sleave, raw silk floss, II. ii. 36. 

Sliver, to cut or tear away, IV. i. 28. 

Sole, mere, alone, IV. iii. 12. 

Solemn, stately, ceremonious, III. i. 14. 

Sooth, (1) n. truth; (2) adj. true, I. ii. 
35; V. v. 40. 

Sore, dreadful, II. iv. 3. 

Speculation, power of sight. III. iv. 96. 

Spongy, imbibing like a sponge, I. vii. 

66 . 

Sprites, the word is our "spirits,” IV. 
i. 127. 

State, (1) a canopy; (2) a chair with 
the canopy over it. Used in second 
sense here, III. iv. 5. 

Still, (1) constantly, V. i. 85; (2) in¬ 
variably, I. vii. 8; III. i. 21. 

Strangely visited, i. e. afflicted with 
strange diseases, IV. iii. 142. 

Success, outcome, I. iii. 90; I. vii. 4. 

Sudden, violent, IV. iii. 59. 

Suggestion, temptation, I. iii. 135. 

Summer-seeming, befitting summer, 
like an annual that dies when sum¬ 
mer departs, IV. iii. 79. 

Surcease, a stopping, cessation (as of 
life), I. vii. 4. 

Surveying, perceiving, I. Ii. 30. 

Taint, become infected, V. iii. 3. 

Take, “to change into gall by your 
malignant power.” (Schmidt.) I. v. 
50. 

Teems, teems with, IV. iii. 168. 

Thane, a title; in Saxon times a noble¬ 
man inferior in rank to an earl and 
ealdorman; later it was equivalent to 
earl, I. ii. 44. 

Titles, things to which he has a title 
in law, his possessions, IV. ii. 7. 

To, in addition to, III. i. 51. 

Towering, a technical term in falconry, 
used of the rise of a bird to its 






GLOSSAEY 


197 


“place.” (Vide supra, Place) II. iv. 

12 . 

Toys, trifles, II. 111. 80. 

Trains, deceitful devices, IV. ill. 111. 
Trammel, entangle, as in a net, I. vii. 3. 
Transpose, change, alter. IV. iii. 21. 
Treatise, story, V. v. 12. 

Trenched, cut, III. iv. 27. 

Trifled, made trifles of, II. iv. 4. 

Tyrant, usurper, III. vi. 22; IV. iii. 12. 

Undeeded, unused, having done no 
deed, V. vii. 20. 

Unseam’d, ripped open, I. ii. 21. 
Untitled, without a title, IV. ill. 97. 

Use, custom, I. iii. 138. 

Utterance, utmost, III. i. 71. 

Valued, provided with values or esti¬ 
mates of worth, III. i. 94. 

Vantage, favorable opportunity or posi¬ 
tion, I. ii. 30; I. iii. 113; I. vi. 7. 
Visard, a mask, III, ii. 34. 


Wanton, unguided, unrestrained, I. iv. 
34. 

Warranted, justified, IV. iii. 129. 
W T assail, carousal, revelry, I. vii. 59. 
W r atching, waking, V. i. 12. 

Water-rugs, water dogs with rough 
coats. III. i. 93. 

Weal, state, commonwealth, III. iv. 77; 
V. ii. 27. 

W’eird, having to do with fate; as an 
adjective, unearthly, uncanny, fate¬ 
ful, I. iii. 32. 

Wholesome, healthy, IV. iii. 98. 

Wink at, refuse to see, I. iv. 52. 

With, by, III. i. 111. 

Withal, with it, I. iii. 57. 

W r orm, a young serpent, III. iv. 29. 
Wrack, wreck, V. v. 51. 

Wrought, p. part, of work. Here It 
means agitated, I. iii. 150. 

Yesty, frothy, IV. 1. 52. 









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